Hidden Dreams
by deepwater1978
Summary: The human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed; the thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, whose charms were broken if revealed - Charlotte Bronte
1. Chapter 1

_MYSTIC FALLS 1981_

The house at the end of the lane was filled with darkness and night. That wasn't right, Joseph Salvatore thought.

Katherine should be inside the house waiting for him. She would leave the lights on for him.

He stopped the car in the driveway. The convertible's headlights blazed a short distance into the thick stand of pine trees that loomed beside the house. Katherine's car was parked in the driveway.

He shut down the engine, pushed open the car door and scrambled out of the convertible.

Something didn't feel right.

Joseph found himself alone in the night. He was very conscious of the chill in the air. That was wrong, too, he thought. It was summer.

He turned toward the darkened house, digging into his pocket to find his key.

"Katherine, I'm home."

There was no answer. Maybe she had fallen asleep while waiting for him.

Morosely he watched to see if a light came on in his bedroom at the side of the house. Katherine must have heard his car, he thought. Katherine was a light sleeper.

But the house remained dark.

He could just barely make out the front porch steps. The light over the door was turned off. That was really weird. Katherine was afraid of the dark. She had always wanted lights everywhere. It was one of her rules.

Something was really strange here. Maybe the bulb had burned out.

He fumbled the key into the lock and turned the knob.

A terrible, stomach-churning smell wafted out through the opening. Had some animals gotten into the house? Katherine would freak out because she was alone. It was his fault. He should have left the studio earlier this evening.

"Katherine, darling, I'm home," he said as he pushed the door open.

There was still no answer.

Katherine was probably mad at him for being late, he thought.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Please don't be angry," he said.

But a part of him already knew that things were horribly wrong. He started to shiver violently. It was all he could do to move one foot across the threshold and grope for the switch on the wall.

The lights came on, dazzling her for a couple of seconds. Then he saw the blood on the hallway floor.

He heard someone screaming. In some remote corner of his mind he understood that he was the one who was uttering the high, desperate, frantic cries of grief, horror and denial. But the sound was distant and far away.

At the same instant, the sound of a gunshot echoed endlessly through the house.


	2. Chapter 2

_MYSTIC FALLS 2016_

E-MAIL MESSAGE

p. DATE: September 1

FROM: EGilbert: SUBJECT: Case

Dear Mr Salvatore,

I know this e-mail is coming as a huge surprise.

I'm Dr Elena Gilbert. I'm a psychiatrist at Mystic Falls Hospital and I mainly deal with children and adolescents with mental health issues.

Our department has a difficult case at the moment and we need your help. Professor Alaric Saltzman has mentioned your name and he believes you can help us.

I have to talk to you, and I have to do it soon.

Please get back to me as soon as you can.

I really appreciate your help.

Yours sincerely,

Elena Gilbert

x x x

No one ever said that the devil couldn't have a rose garden, Elena thought. It just seemed a trifle out of character. On the other hand, the rose garden of the old Salvatore boarding house was no ordinary one. And Damon Salvatore, Elena had decided, was no ordinary gardener.

"Are you, or are you not, a dream therapist?" Elena demanded.

"Depends," Damon Salvatore answered. With the lethal precision of a fencer, he used a pair of garden shears on a clotted mass of evil-looking vines.

"What does it depend on?"

"On whether or not I feel like working at it." Damon took hold of the severed vines with heavily gloved hands. He ripped the old vegetation away from the window with a single, powerful motion. "I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Yes, I can see that."

Damon took no notice of her sarcasm. He seized another tangle of vines and dispatched them with ease.

Elena watched, morosely fascinated. She couldn't help it. She liked watching Damon Salvatore.

The vegetation he was attacking with such diligence had grown so thickly over the windows of the old house that it had effectively blocked all sunlight from reaching some of the rooms.

"Mr Salvatore, this garden went wild years ago, just like the house." Elena was growing increasingly exasperated. Time was running out, and she needed Damon Salvatore. "It can wait a few more days before you tame it."

Damon paused briefly to look at her. His blue eyes gleamed. "I'm in the mood to do it now."

What an arrogant bastard, Elena reflected, not for the first time. As far as she had been able to discern, Damon was anything but sweet, in either nature or temperament. She suspected he was yet another result of a baby having been switched at birth. Happened all the time, they said. Elena wondered what Salvatore's parents had thought when they discovered that they had been given a little blue-eyed, black-haired demon to raise.

He was proving to be stubborn and thoroughly irritating, but there was something about the man that fascinated Elena. She did not know him very well. No one in Mystic Falls really knew Damon Salvatore.

He had moved to Mystic Falls two months ago. Elena had encountered him on only one occasion - a month ago when he had first arrived in Mystic Falls to meet his best friend Alaric Saltzman's fiancée, Jo Parker - but she wasn't likely to forget Damon Salvatore. She had been stunned by her reaction to him. Hunger and longing and a singing sense of joyous discovery barely began to describe it.

She had tried to squelch the feelings. True, she was a struggling romance novelist on the side, but Elena was far too pragmatic to believe in love at first sight. On the other hand, she trusted her own instincts when it came to people. They had stood her in good stead in her career as a psychiatrist. One thing was for certain. Those instincts had never reacted with such overwhelming intensity to any of the handful of men she had dated.

Damon had appeared oblivious of her carefully concealed response to him. He had announced without preamble that he had come back to stay in Mystic Falls to start a business. As a dream therapist.

Elena had been intrigued by his choice of career. Dreams had intrigued the human race for thousands of years. In ancient times, the Babylonians and Egyptians believed dreams were prophetic and held heavenly meaning. Aristotle interpreted dreams as psychological phenomena and viewed them as the life of one's soul while asleep. In the middle of the nineteen century, the first scientifically-based dream research took place, but it was not until Freud published _The Interpretation of Dreams_ in 1900 that dream analysis widely developed. His was the first established theory that incorporated dreams within the context of the helping relationship. Jung adapted Freud's theory, proposing that dreams do not signify repressed unconscious drives but represent expressions of creativity aimed at resolution. Since then, other therapy models like Gestalt therapy, art therapy, and cognitive behavioural therapy had used dream analysis in one fashion or another.

Although dream analysis had waned in contemporary use, it remained an integral part of some theoretical frameworks. Dream analysis appeared to be most popular among psychoanalysts trained in psychodynamic theory. Because the primary goal of dream analysis was to help people address the problems they were currently facing, it could be used to address many mental health issues. A newer cognitive behavioural technique called image rehearsal therapy had been developed to address concerns like posttraumatic stress and chronic nightmares.

But she had been horrified when he told her he was living at the Salvatore Boarding House. Everyone in Mystic Falls knew the old boarding house. It was built in 1914 was home to members of the Salvatore Family before Giuseppe and his family moved to New York after his youngest brother Joseph Salvatore was found dead inside the house with his girlfriend Katherine Pierce in 1981. Over the years, the house was used as a place where visitors could stay but it was eventually closed down in year 2000 because of the horror stories about the house. The Boarding House was said to be one of the creepiest places in Mystic Falls because everyone believed that the house was haunted.

But Damon had appeared to be content with his new home according to Alaric.

She stifled a small, wistful sigh as she watched Damon free another window from its shroud of clinging vines. There was a lean, supple strength about him that captivated her senses. While it was true that, objectively speaking, Damon Salvatore was extremely handsome. He had a well-toned body, a light complexion with olive undertones and had a strong bone structure with high cheeks bones and a solid jaw line. He possessed dark brown almost black hair which hung just over his ears, usually styled in a casual disarray. With striking, intense light blue eyes contrasting wonderfully against darkened lashes and eyebrows, a "bad boy" smile, Damon Salvatore could be described as relatively athletic, tall, strong, sexy and seductive. Elena found him strangely compelling.

She watched him now with brooding determination. This was the first time she had paid a call on Damon since he had moved into the Salvatore Boarding House. She had come on business, not for social reasons. She needed this man. She needed him badly.

It wasn't as if she had a lot of choice. The small sign on the front door of the old boarding house Damon called home said it all. It read HIDDEN DREAMS – DREAM THERAPY.

Damon Salvatore was the only dream therapist in Mystic Falls. There was not a lot of call for his type of work in the small community. Elena was quite certain that since his arrival he had yet to get a single case. She had naively believed that he would be thrilled to have work. Obviously, she had been mistaken.

Elena braced one hand against the garden's stone wall and drummed her fingers with simmering impatience. Unaware or uncaring of her irritation, Damon went about his work among the grotesquely tangled rosebushes that clogged the garden.

The roses had been abandoned along with the crumbling ruin of a house years ago. Instead of dying off in a bittersweet, genteel manner, they had gone wild, with a vengeance. They climbed the garden walls as though bent on escaping a prison. They formed impenetrable thickets across the cracked paths, and had apparently been intent on marching up the steps and into the sun porch. Damon had arrived in the nick of time.

"Can I take it from your attitude that you are not interested in working for the hospital?" Elena asked bluntly.

"Yeah." Sleek muscles moved easily beneath Damon's black T-shirt as he shifted an armload of defeated vines to a growing pile in the centre of the garden. "You can draw that conclusion."

"Very well, then, you leave me no choice." Elena removed her hand from the stone wall and straightened in resignation. "I shall have to find someone else."

Damon's mouth curved slightly. "Good luck. The last time I looked in the phone book, I was the only dream therapist in Mystic Falls."

Elena brushed her hands together and started toward the sagging gate. "I had hoped to give this work to someone local because I believe this case is fascinating. But since you are not interested, I'm sure I can find someone in New York who will be happy to help."

"New York?"

Elena was aware that Damon had gone very still behind her. She did not turn around. "Yes. I'm sure there will be someone from New York who will be interested in such a fascinating case."

"Damn. Hold on just a minute."

Satisfaction surged through Elena. She paused at the gate to smile at Damon with polite inquiry.

"Was there something you wanted, Mr Salvatore?"

He scowled ferociously, an expression that did nothing to soften his harsh face. "Yeah. Some answers."

"Sorry, I don't have time to chat. I have to contact different dream therapists in New York."

"Let's get real here." Damon stripped off his gloves as he strode toward her along the garden walk. "You know a lot of those so-called dream therapists are fraud."

She folded her arms across her chest. "You may be a fraud too, Mr Salvatore."

"You know I'm not a fraud." Damon came to a halt in front of her and planted his fists on his hips. "That's why you are here today."

"Alaric thinks you can help but obviously, you aren't interested."

"Look, I don't deal with children…"

"Look, Mr Salvatore…"

"Damon."

The abrupt change in direction threw her off stride for a moment. "What?"

"Call me Damon."

"Damon, I understand that you usually deal with adults but Megan's case is different," Elena said. "Her case is complex. We have tried everything we could to help her but we aren't winning. All we are asking you to do is make a quick trip to the hospital and meet with her."

He gripped the top of the drooping gate and contemplated her with narrowed eyes. "What if it turns out that Megan's case is more than I can deal with? What the hell will Alaric expect me to do about it? Dream analysis in children may not be as straightforward as you think, Dr Gilbert."

"I'm aware of that," Elena said.

"It's why I don't do much children work, remember?"

"I know, but Megan really needs your help," Elena said.

"I get that, but that still begs the question. What will Alaric expect me to do if I determine that Megan will require a proper dream analysis?"

She looked at him but said nothing.

"Ever heard of IRT?" he asked.

Elena raised her brow. "IRT?"

"Image rehearsal therapy also known as IRT," Damon explained. "In image rehearsal therapy also known as IRT, the goal is to rewrite the nightmare's story. The therapist may coach the person in treatment to relay the bad dream, write it down, and then change the content to something positive, encouraging the individual to mentally rehearse this new dream script for up to 20 minutes a day in order to decrease the frequency and intensity of the nightmare. It has been shown to be effective in patients with chronic nightmares." He narrowed his eyes. "Do you think a child can deal with this sort of therapy?"

There was a brief silence before she opened her mouth.

"If you are not going to accept Megan's case, I have got to find someone else. From New York, Washington DC, San Francisco or even out of United States. I have to help Megan."

Elena tried to open the gate. Damon took no notice of her effort. Instead, he leaned heavily back against it and folded his arms across his chest. He looked annoyed but resigned.

"Okay, tell me about it," he said.

"Tell you about what?"

"Megan's case."

"Really?" Surprise and delight lit her face. "You are going to take Megan's case?"

"Don't get so excited. I may still decline it if I don't think I can deal with it." He considered her thoughtfully for a few seconds. Then he came away from the gate and took her arm. "Come on, let's go inside. I will make you a cup of coffee and you can tell me about Megan's case."

"I'm sure you can help Megan." She allowed Damon to lead her inside the house.

To Elena's surprise, the interior of the Salvatore Boarding House was kept in good condition.

"This place is beautiful," she said as she stepped into the hallway.

The interior of the house was focused around a large central hallway serving as the main avenue of traffic and entrance area to the adjacent rooms. The hallway flew into a large, wide staircase.

"My ancestors built them. They were great architectures and builders. That's what the Salvatore Corporate does," he said. "There are seven rooms on the second floor. Four formal rooms with sixteen foot ceilings, pocket doors, fireplaces and tall windows form the main block of the building. On the first floor, the hallway and front parlour still retain the original wallpaper from 1882 with classic Anglo-Japanese asymmetrical designs and exotic motifs. The other rooms have been redecorated to approximate the original wallpaper and paint colours."

"This is amazing," Elena exclaimed.

"As you enter through the front door on the east facade, you pass into a grand hallway. The wallpaper is Anglo-Japanese design with Roman and Greek themes in the frieze on the ceilings and walls. The predominant colours are dark with tan and gold highlights, creating an interesting contrast to the original interior trim painting of ashen pinks, tans, pale blues and black detailing. This combination of colours is repeated throughout both floors of the house. The tall, heavy, varnished wood doors have as the top panel, coloured glass panes of amber, blue and pink, in a geometric design," Damon said as he led her into the living room. "On either side of the main doors are smaller, longer versions of the coloured glass windows. The doors and small windows have moulded surrounds of painted wood with bulls-eye corner blocks and decorative accents on the door surrounds and on the baseboard. The door knobs, plates, and hinges are brass with raised Eastlake style ornament."

"It must have cost a fortune at that time."

He shrugged casually. "I guess my ancestors were rich. Have a seat." Not ungently, he pushed her toward a high-backed, leather-covered sofa. "I will get the coffee."

Elena sat down gingerly and surveyed the interior of the boarding house. She shook her head in amazement. Everyone in Mystic Falls stayed away from the boarding house because of the rumours that it was haunted. Who would believe this beautiful mansion would be haunted?

The fireplace, situated on the interior wall facing east, had a tall mantel of birch wood with turned spindles flanking a rectangular mirror supporting a tapered hood. The hearth was set with dark patterned tiles of Eastlake designs with light blue and white floral tiles surrounding the firebox. The ceiling was painted pressed metal with a curved crown moulding. The tall windows were of the Queen Anne style, banded at the top by a panel of coloured lights (blue, amber, purple, red). The height of the window was emphasized by a dado panel of wood with moulded trim beneath each window.

Damon reappeared a few minutes later carrying a tray laden with a French press coffeepot and two cups. He set his burden down on the coffee table.

"All right, tell me what this is all about." He sank into the depths of one of the massive wingback chairs.

"Megan's case is quite complex," Elena said. "She is a twelve-year-old with no past medical history. Healthy overall."

Damon looked up as he poured coffee. "Something happened to her."

"Well, not to her. Max."

He raised his brows in polite inquiry "Max?"

"Max was Megan's puppy," she explained. "Max was knocked down by a car six months ago. Max didn't survive the accident."

"Megan witnessed the accident," he said flatly.

Elena nodded. "Her parents had bought a new puppy for her but…"

"But Megan was still upset over the accident." Damon leaned back in his chair and stuck out his legs. "That's PTSD. You can deal with PTSD, Dr Gilbert. You don't need my help."

"It's not PTSD exactly." Elena frowned. "Megan seemed to get over with the accident. She loves the new puppy. In fact, she becomes obsessed with the puppy. She is worried that something may happen to the puppy all the time. She doesn't even want to go to school because she wants to stay at home with the puppy."

"The symptoms you described fit with the diagnosis of PTSD," Damon said as he crossed his booted feet. "Did she have bad dreams?"

"Yes…"

"She has PTSD."

"But the dreams she has been having…are somewhat weird."

"Weird?"

"Megan said she saw a man killing a woman."

That stopped him. "She saw a man killing a woman?"

She nodded. "That's what it didn't make sense. Megan has been horrified by her dreams."

A flicker of awareness arced across Damon's senses. Something that might have been curiosity stirred inside him. He uncrossed his feet and leaned forward.

"Okay. Megan dreamt about a murder case," he said. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"All she could say was there was a man inside a house. The man used a knife to stab the woman. Multiple times."

Another tendril of curiosity flickered through Damon. "Did she know where was this house?" he asked. "Could she remember the face of the man or the woman?"

Elena shook her head. "We couldn't get her to talk more about her dreams. She always freaks out."

"Maybe she had watched a scary movie recently. You know it is not uncommon for a child to mix up fiction with reality."

"No, we had checked it out. It's not fiction. I have a feeling what Megan said is real."

Damon contemplated her words. "Are you saying that Megan witnessed a murder?"

"It's possible, isn't it?" she said. "Megan witnessed a murder previously but it was such a terrifying experience for her, subconsciously her brain shut down this memory. But something trigger this painful, terrifying experience."

"What did her parents say about this?"

"Her parents were horrified, of course. But they didn't believe Megan had witnessed a murder."

"It could still only be a dream which doesn't have any significance."

"I don't believe it. Megan has been having the same dream for the last six months. I seriously believe she had seen something."

"Alright. If what Megan said is true, is there any murder case in the last year or so which was similar to what Megan described?" he asked. "That kind of story should have been all over the news. I can see the headlines now. Man stabbed woman to death multiple times."

"We have checked this out as well but we can't find anything."

Damon looked baffled. "What the hell do you expect me to do? I'm not a detective. If you believe there was a murder case, you should inform the police."

There was another short pause.

"Alaric told me you are a talent," Elena said finally. "You are a psychic."

He narrowed his eyes. "I do counselling work to help patients who are troubled by nightmares."

"Alaric said you can view auras," she said softly.

He stood up quickly and walked towards the fireplace. "What else did Alaric tell you about me?"

"Not much apart from you can do an analysis of a dream, put patients in a trance and help them rework the dreamscape until you discover the unresolved issues involved."

Damon gazed at her in amazement. "Aren't you afraid?"

Elena was taken aback. "Afraid?"

"Afraid of me."

"Why should I be afraid of you?"

"A lot of people think I'm crazy when they find out what I can do."

"I have met crazy. I know crazy. Trust me, you don't qualify as crazy."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

She smiled. "I have very good people instincts, you know."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes, it is," Elena said as she rose from the sofa. "Megan needs your help, Damon."

Damon looked at her. He had known he would have to take this case. She was not the type to let go.

"You do realise that you have left me no option," he said. "Now I have to take the case."

Joy flowed through Elena. "So what's your plan?"

"I need you to arrange a meeting for me. I want to meet Megan's parents and her siblings," he said. "I also need to see Megan alone."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

He fell silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I want you to rummage around in Megan's family background. But I don't want anyone to realize what you are doing."

Elena was taken aback. "How am I supposed to do that?"

To her surprise, he reached across the small space between them. She could feel the heat coming off him. The tantalizing trace of his clean, male scent sparked another little frisson of awareness through her.

"You have been living in Mystic Falls since you were born. Your father Grayson Gilbert was a well-known paediatrician at Mystic Falls Hospital before he and your mother died of a car accident ten years ago. You studied in medical school of University of Virginia and decided to specialise in child psychiatry. Your brother Jeremy is a geologist working in Texas."

Elena's eyes widened. "Good grief. How did you…"

"Everyone in Mystic Falls seems very fond of you," Damon continued ruthlessly. "You are like the 'Golden Girl' in the community. You are twenty-eight years old and have never been married. You do not flirt with married men and you are not dating anyone at present."

"You seem to have done a fairly thorough job investigating me. May I ask why?"

Damon watched her with dangerously hot eyes. "That should be sort of obvious."

"Well, it's not obvious to me."

Damon's expression sharpened. "No, I can see that."

She cleared her throat. "Well, I don't know what this is all about, nor do I have the time to find out. You should remember your client is Megan, not me."

He frowned. "I never say you are my client."

She swallowed hard. "Right."

He was starting to get pissed. "I'm glad we are clear about this," he said.

"There's no need to growl at me."

"I am not growling."

Elena rolled her eyes. "I know growling when I hear it," she said.

Damon said nothing. Silence stretched between them.

"So what do you want me to do?" Elena spoke after a while. "I'm not a detective. I'm a psychiatrist, remember?" she asked gently.

"Check out on Megan's family background. Use your strings in Mystic Falls, Dr Gilbert."

"Elena."

Damon looked at her. "What?"

"You can call me Elena."

"Fine, Elena," Damon said. "Get all the information you can. Talk to the neighbours, friends, relatives and colleagues."

"When do you want me to start?"

Damon met her eyes. "As soon as possible."


	3. Chapter 3

_"You know I love you," he said as he opened her blouse. Moonlight light shone into the backseat of his car. The sheen of her perfect skin and the swell of her breasts, they mesmerised him, as usual._

 _"I know you do," she said breathlessly as he lowered his head to lay his lips on her shoulder. "I love you too. I love you with all my heart."_

 _He had waited so long to hear her say those words and he wanted to believe her. But could he?_

 _"I don't share my woman with another man." He reached beneath her skirt to stroke the soft skin of her inner thigh, to slip his fingertips into the top of her stocking. She belonged to him. He wouldn't share her with another man. He hated her when she flirted with other men, but he loved her too. He had not known it was possible to love a woman and hate her at the same time, but this woman was maddening. He wanted her; he needed her. But sometimes he wished he didn't love her quite so much. "Especially not John Gilbert. I hate him."_

 _"Don't talk about him," she said gently. "Take me out of Mystic Falls."_

 _"You don't like Mystic Falls?" he asked._

 _"I want to be someone real big and famous." She looked at him. "And I know you can be someone real big and famous with your talent."_

 _He smiled at her. "I promise you I will give you everything I have."_

 _"Make love to me," she whispered._

 _He pushed her onto her back and spread her thighs with his knee. "You are mine. I won't share you with another man."_

 _He pushed inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his lips. She made love with abandon, the same way she danced and sang and laughed, and whether they were in his bed or inside his car, he could almost forgive her for sharing her body with somebody else._

Damon woke with a start. The room was dark and quiet, and there was no moonlight…no her.

The dream had seemed too real, too tactile. But he still couldn't figure it out what he was looking for.

He had been having recurring dreams of the same woman since he was twelve. The day after he turned twelve, Damon became ill with high fever and within hours he was comatose. He spent two weeks in intensive care unit and the diagnosis made was viral meningitis/encephalitis. After he was discharged from the hospital, he started to have dreams. Recurring dreams of a man and a woman. He also started seeing auras of people who were dreaming. The first time it happened, he was terrified. So did his parents when he told them about the auras. They wondered if he was crazy or had brain damage from the viral meningitis/encephalitis. He ended up seeing multiple doctors and had tones of investigations but all the tests came back normal. One of the doctors had recommended his parents to bring him to a psychiatrist.

Damon was miserable at the time because everyone else around him thought that he was crazy. The auras became stronger as he went through his teen. He was so afraid that he may be locked up at a mental institution one day. His parents said he should never tell anyone about his auras. They told him he should learn to ignore them. Luckily Professor Sage King appeared when he turned fifth-teen. She was the one who helped him deal with his talent. And now he was using his talent for his dream counselling work.

As he grew older, he realised he could even go into a lucid dream on purpose. He could take control of the dream as well. Sage had been a friend and a mentor since then. She had helped him to understand and control his talent. Without her, he couldn't think what would he turn out to be.

His parents still did not accept his talent but they tend to avoid discussing about it nowadays. They had focussed all their energy and attention in their younger son, Stefan who was normal.

Damon had stopped trying to pretend to be 'normal' in front of them many years ago. He had learnt to accept his own talent. His parents or his brother might not accept his talent but he still loved them because they were family. Family was like branches of a tree. They grew in different directions yet their roots remain as one.

Unfortunately his talent made stable, long-term relationships difficult. No, it was almost impossible. Women were attracted by his good looks but none of them lasted long, especially when they found out about his talent. They were horrified.

Damon didn't have friends either because of talent. Except Alaric.

He met Alaric five years ago. Alaric was two years older than him. He was a psychiatrist who specialised in dealing with patients with PTSD. They met in a conference about dealing with dreams and nightmares. Somehow Alaric was different from the other guys he had met. They just clicked and became good friends since.

For years, Damon was still trying to figure what was the meaning of his recurring dreams. His dreams were getting more powerful in the last one year. They weren't nightmares—not exactly—but there was a rising sense of urgency linked to them. And he was not sleeping well, either.

In an odd way the woman in his dream seemed vaguely familiar to him.

Déjà vu, past life memories, a simple and vague similarity to someone he had known in the past…There were many different explanations for that feeling of similarity. But he couldn't dismiss the sensations that they grew stronger every day. There was something about that woman in his dream. And the man in his dream…Damon felt that he had connected in a very deep way with the man in his dream, like someone he had known for a very long time.

John Gilbert. This name appeared in his dream about a year ago.

He went online and researched on the name. One of the headlines of Mystic Falls Daily caught his attention.

JOSEPH SALVATORE KILLED LOVER IN A JEALOUS RAGE

There was a picture of a woman and to Damon's surprise, it was the woman in his dream. The old black-and-white photo was grainy and blurred, but there was no hiding the fact that Katherine Pierce had been a beautiful woman. She stood beside her agent, John Gilbert.

Katherine Pierce was an actress/singer in Richmond. She acted and danced in a number of moderately successful motion pictures. She had also a few albums of her own. She was not quite so well-known because Richmond was a long way from Hollywood. Due to an accident while shooting a musical show, Katherine had retreated to Mystic Falls for a while as requested by John. She met Joseph Salvatore in Mystic Falls – the man in Damon's dream.

Joseph Salvatore, the younger brother of Giuseppe Salvatore, was a musician. He and Katherine shared the same interest in music and they fell in love. But Katherine preferred to be a star in Hollywood. She didn't like Mystic Falls, by all accounts. There were pictures of Katherine and John together as well as some other men. It was obvious that Katherine was using her beauty to get what she wanted.

In the end Joseph killed her. After Joseph murder Katherine, he took his own life. Their bodies were found in the hallway of the living room of the Salvatore Boarding House. She had been stabbed in the chest numerous times. He was lying on top of her with a bullet in his brain. The gun was still in his hand.

That's why his father had moved to New York. Giuseppe had hardly mentioned about his younger brother Joseph. It was a scandal to the Salvatore family, according to his mother, Lilian Salvatore when he asked her about Joseph.

But it still didn't make sense, not yet. It was hard to believe Joseph would kill Katherine – the love of his life.

He needed answers, and it wasn't like he was having any luck getting them on his own, Damon thought.

He realised he had to come back to Mystic Falls if he wanted to figure out what he was searching for.

x x x

After spending the entire morning going through Megan's records and talking to Megan and her mother, Damon was exhausted. He wondered what the hell had come over him. He had never liked dealing with children as his clients. Children were hard work. He preferred adults. But the question was strictly rhetorical. He knew the answer. Elena Gilbert had come over him. Or, to be more precise, he sincerely hoped that their acquaintance would develop to the point where that eventuality became a distinct possibility.

He had wanted Elena Gilbert from the first moment he had seen her. He would never forget that shattering instant of acute knowledge. He had gone out to dinner with Alaric, Jo and Elena at Mystic Grill, the most popular restaurant/café/bar of the town when he first arrived. He had taken one look into Elena's and almond-shaped, deep brown eyes with thick dark lashes and immediately started contemplating a long hot night spent amid sheets made damp with sweat. He had convinced himself that the attraction was mutual. There was no way he could have been wrong about the chemistry that had sparked in the atmosphere between them that night. No way. There had certainly been no doubt in his mind that Elena was exactly the distraction he had needed to get his mind off the damn dream.

But the vision of a night of sexual relief had gone down in flames when he realised Elena's surname: Gilbert.

She was a Gilbert. He had done a thorough background check on John Gilbert. John Gilbert was the younger brother of Grayson Gilbert who was married to Miranda and they had two children – Elena and Jeremy Gilbert.

It was a small world after all.

There were still a lot he couldn't figure out from that damn dream. Getting involved with a Gilbert would not help him at all.

He now had a new rule. Never date a Gilbert. Not until he could figure out his answers.

But he hadn't expected that she would pay him a visit. And neither had he expected that she had asked him to help her with a case.

One thing was now blazingly clear. Nothing had changed when it came to his reaction to Elena. When he had seen her there in the Salvatore Boarding House, he had experienced the same rush of sensual hunger—the same bone-deep thrill—that had slammed through him a month earlier when he had met her for the first time in Mystic Grill.

She had hit his senses like an intoxicating drug that night. He had gotten the same exhilarating shock the other day when she turned up at the Salvatore Boarding House.

If anything, his reaction was even stronger this time, probably because he had been thinking about her nonstop for the past month.

She was tall for a woman, just the right height for him, Damon thought. Attractive, but not in the generic cover-girl style. What she had was a hell of an edge.

She wore her dark brown hair straight. Her curves were subtle but one hundred per cent feminine. There was a sleek, feline quality about her that appealed to all of his senses.

Which immediately brought up the obvious question. Where was the man in her life? According to Alaric, there was no significant other in Elena's world. At least not at the moment. But that seemed unlikely. Who do I have to kill to get to you, Elena Gilbert?

He had decided to wear a black shirt matched with a black jacket this morning. He wasn't used to working for the hospital, but he suspected that neatness counted, at least he was pretty sure it counted with working with someone like Elena. Back in the Salvatore Boarding House she had made it clear that she would find someone to help Megan if he didn't accept the case. He had better get his act together before she decided to find him a replacement.

He had to consider the reputation of Hidden Dreams, he told himself. It wasn't like he could afford to lose another client.

It took him half a second to recognize the guy in the mirror this morning. His eyes didn't appear quite as bleak and soulless as they had for the past one year. He had been right about one thing: Elena Gilbert was the distraction he had needed. To hell with his new dating rule. He wouldn't care whether Elena was a Gilbert or not.

Satisfied that he had done what he could this morning he let himself out of the interview room. He saw Elena standing outside of her office. She was not alone. A tall man with short dark brown hair was with her. Something about the way the two stood together made it clear that they were not strangers. Elena's tightly crossed arms and angled chin told him that she was not happy with the way the conversation was going.

Anticipation heated Damon's blood as he walked toward Elena and her companion. Maybe this was the guy he was going to have to kill to get to Elena.

Elena was facing the direction where he was walking towards to her. She was wearing mixed floral print dress along with her doctor's white coat. She saw him immediately. Relief followed by an urgent warning flashed through her eyes. Her smile was too bright and too welcoming. It was the smile a woman gave to a man with whom she was intimately involved. What's wrong with this picture? Damon wondered.

"Oh, there you are, Damon," she said quickly. "I was just explaining to Liam that you and I have plans for lunch. This is Liam Davis. Liam, this is Damon Salvatore."

It didn't take any psychic talent to know that he had just been promoted from the role of a dream therapist to that of lover, Damon thought. No problem. He could work with that. He moved to stand very close to Elena, his shoulder just brushing hers.

"Davis," he said. Taking his cue from Elena, he was careful to keep his tone civil, at least until he figured out what the hell was going on.

"Salvatore." Liam acknowledged the introduction with a short, brusque inclination of his head that went well with his short, brusque greeting. It was clear that he was not thrilled to learn that Elena was not alone.

At close range, it was clear that Liam Davis was an attractive young man in his late twenties. He was tall, narrow-hipped and strategically muscled in the manner of a man who spent a fair amount of time at his gym. A strong jaw, high cheekbones, dark brown eyes and the elegantly styled sweep of dark brown hair made not so bad on the eyes, Damon thought.

"Liam is one of the paediatricians at Mystic Falls Hospital," Elena said.

"Is that right?" he said. That made him a strong competitor, he thought.

"You are the dream therapist Professor Saltzman recommends, aren't you?" Liam said.

"That's right." Damon went for casual, still trying to get a feel for the vibe between Liam and Elena. They clearly shared a past, but beyond that things got murky fast. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Am I?"

"I'm planning to ask Elena out for lunch." Liam turned back to Elena. "I thought we could go to the hospital fundraising night this Saturday together."

"Fundraising night?" Damon asked.

"Yeah. The hospital has an annual fundraising night to raise money," Elena answered.

"What time shall I pick you up?" Liam asked.

"I'm going with Damon," Elena answered.

Damon smirked but he said nothing.

Liam was surprised. "You are going to the fundraising night with him?"

Elena scowled. "You got a problem with that, Liam?"

"No, I didn't expect you…" Liam stuttered, as if he couldn't find the right words.

Damon looked at her. "I'm starving. I bet you are too. Shall we find something to eat?"

Elena gave Damon an approving look. "Lunch sounds great. We can discuss about Megan's case." The testosterone levels were climbing fast. Had she unwittingly achieved that pinnacle of feminine accomplishment that occurred when one became the object of the rampaging lust of two men who were willing to fight for the honour of her favours?

It felt good. It felt really good.

Liam looked annoyed and glanced at his watch. "Hate to leave, but I have just remembered that I have a meeting to attend." He turned his attention back to Elena. "I will see you later, Elena."

Elena just gave him a fleeting smile.

Damon watched Liam walked away before looking back at Elena. "Where are we going?"

"There is a cafe around the corner. Only a short walk from the hospital," Elena said as she removed her white coat and hung it on the chair before closing the door of her office. "They serve great fish and chips."

"Sounds delicious. I love fish and chips." Damon took her arm and steered her towards the main entrance. "Do you go there often?"

"Sometimes. They also have a variety of sandwiches."

"uh-uh."

He discovered he liked holding her arm. He liked it a lot.

"Want to tell me what made you decide to give Dr Future-Humanitarian-Award the impression that you and I are sleeping together?" he asked.

There was a short, startled pause.

"Dr Future-Humanitarian-Award?" Elena repeated, as if she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.

"Sorry." He shrugged. "I think it's the hair."

She smiled. "Liam does have a certain sense of style." She stopped smiling. "But I certainly never meant to imply that you and I were romantically involved. Are you sure that's how it came across?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Are you positive?"

"Call it male intuition," he said.

"I wasn't trying to project that sort of impression, believe me. I just wanted him to know that I didn't…"

"You didn't want to be with him. Alone"

She shrugged casually. "I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. That's all."

"Got any specific reasons?"

"What?"

"Dr Future-Humanitarian-Award looks like a medical royalty. Not to mention not so bad on the eyes either."

Elena was silent for a few seconds.

"I guess I will have to go with the obvious answer," she said. "Female intuition."

"I respect intuition," he said. "But I like hard facts, too. Correct me if I'm wrong, but earlier I got the impression that you and Davis have some history that involves more than a business association."

"A year ago, when we met here in Mystic Falls, he tried to get me into bed."

Damon's gut tightened. "Do you distrust every man who wants to sleep with you?"

"Only when the man in question neglects to mention that he's married. That tends to piss me off."

Damon exhaled slowly. "Okay," he said. "I get that. So, did you find out about the wife before or after?"

She gave him a cold glance. "It's not really any of your business, is it?"

"No. But I tend to be curious by nature." Especially when it comes to you, he added silently. "Sorry. You are right. Not my business. Moving right along…"

"Before."

"What?"

"I found out that Liam was married before our relationship progressed to the physical stage," she said stiffly.

"Is he still married?"

"No. I heard from some of the nurses several months ago that Liam and his wife were divorced."

"And he is trying to lure you back into bed?"

She looked mildly annoyed. "Why are you so interested in my relationship?"

"Remember I'm a psychic dream therapist?"

"I'm not your case, and I'm not here to get psychic dream counselling," she said. "Megan is your client, not me."

Anger flashed, quicksilver bright, in his eyes. "I'm not repeating myself anymore. I'm going to say this one last time. You are not my client. Are we very clear on this?"

She managed to look bewildered. "I'm supposed to be annoyed at you. But why am I being growled at instead?"

"I want us to have an understanding. That's all." Because I don't want you to be my client, he said to himself. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Okay," she said. "Whatever."

"Fine."

Great. Now she had probably hurt his feelings. Or not. It was hard to tell with Damon Salvatore.

"What time do you want me to pick you up?" Damon asked after a while.

Elena blinked. "What?"

"The fundraising night this Saturday," he said gruffly. "You want me to be your date."

She cocked her head and looked at him, hard. "You want to go to the fundraising night?"

He lifted his eyebrows slightly. "As I recall, you told Dr Future-Humanitarian-Award just now that you are going to the fundraising night with me."

She gave it a few seconds' thought. "Are you sure you want to go to the fundraising night?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

She smiled. "Okay. I will be ready by seven." She stopped in front of a cafe. "Here we are. Time for lunch."

They sat at a small, round table near the window. The name of the café was Falls Café. The crowd was a mix of academics, students and townsfolk. The walls were painted in warm hues of brown and ochre. The wood floor had been finished to look old and worn.

One of the young waiters finally stopped at their table. Elena ordered a glass of iced tea. Damon ordered an expresso. They both decided on fish and chips.

Damon was oddly pleased. Something in common at last, he thought. A fish.

"When did you realise you can see auras?" Elena asked.

She could tell her question caught Damon off guard. He paused, his cup of expresso halfway to his lips, and looked at her for a long, considering moment. She didn't care about the delay. She could sit here and look into his eyes forever.

For a while, she wondered if he was going to answer the question. He had a right to his privacy, but damn, she wanted to know more about him.

He reflected a moment longer. In the end he took a sip of his expresso and set the cup down very precisely on the table.

"When I was twelve," he said. "I was very ill at that time and ended up unconscious for weeks. When I woke up, I realised I could see auras of people when they were dreaming."

He watched her, waiting for her reaction.

"Huh." She ran through the possible scenarios. "The auras are some sort of dreamstate images?"

Damon relaxed visibly. His eyes cleared and he smiled. "Yes. That's exactly what happens. But it is almost impossible to explain to people because it sounds like I'm claiming to have visions."

"Which is exactly what is going on, when you get right down to it."

"Sort of, yes." He eyed her, once again wary. "You don't appear too freaked. Most people look at me funny when I tell them about the auras."

She shrugged casually. "It may sound strange but it doesn't mean it is not true. Science can't explain everything in life."

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes shadowed. Eventually he took another sip of his expresso.

"My talent doesn't make for stable, long-term relationships," he said.

She recognised it for the warning it was and smiled.

"Lots of people have problems with long-term relationships. Trust me, you are not the only one."

"Yeah?" Damon looked intrigued. "You are one of them too?"

"You are teasing me, aren't you?"

"My parents and my brother are convinced that I have got major commitment issues. I can't blame my relationship problem on my talent."

"Well, you should accept that person completely if it is true love," Elena said without stopping to think. "You are using your talent to do your psychic dream counselling work. There is nothing wrong with that."

"I prefer adult clients." He smiled. "They pay better and they are hell a lot easier to deal with."

That surprised a laugh out of her. "I can see the upside."

He stopped smiling. "But adult clients are also incredibly frustrating. I can pick up a lot of impressions when I view their auras, but those impressions are not helpful if I can't get context. To obtain that, I need cooperation from my clients. That isn't always forthcoming."

She raised her brows. "Are we, by any chance, talking about Megan's case now?"

He frowned. "It's always more difficult to get context from a child. That's why I don't deal with children."

"It is always more difficult to deal with children than adult patients," she agreed. "Have you considered offering your dream therapy to children? A lot of children have sleep disorders and dreams issues."

"Not a chance in hell."

"You haven't even tried. Maybe you would love it."

"No way."

The waiter put the plates of fish and chips down in front of them and departed.

Elena examined the fish and chips for a few seconds and then looked up.

"Do you think you will be able to help Megan?" she asked.

"Sure."

"You sound very certain of that."

He shrugged. "I don't like dealing with children because it is hard work but it doesn't mean I don't have the ability to nail the problem."

"I'm glad Alaric has recommended you to help us with Megan's case."

Me too, he added silently. He picked up his fork. "I need some money for living anyway."

They ate in silence for a while. He tried not to watch Elena overtly but it was hard to take his eyes off her. It was good to be here with her. This was what he had needed, he thought. Elena Gilbert was the fix he craved.

"You mentioned about your family is in building business." She took a sip of her iced tea.

"Huh,uh. The Salvatore Corporate is one of the top builders in New York city."

"Did you try out the family business?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It won't work out. I can't work for my father. We will drive each other crazy."

"But didn't he want you to help out with the family business?"

"He did but I declined. Stefan, my younger brother is working for him now. I think he will eventually take over the business."

She hesitated. "Is your brother…"

"No." He understood what she was trying to ask. "Stefan is normal. Very normal."

She gave him an encouraging smile. "You are normal too, Damon."

"Don't jump into conclusion so early, Elena." His expression sharpened. "I'm never normal."

There was another long silence. She had nobody but herself to blame for the awkward silence between them, Elena thought. She should have known better than to tell Damon he was normal. She should have groped for another subject.

"What do you think about Megan's case?" she asked, breaking the edgy silence.

"It's hard to interpret without context but I can tell that her dreams are getting more powerful."

Elena looked concerned. "You have to help her, Damon."

"I know," he said.

"What are you going to do?"

He looked at her. "Catch a glimpse of her dreams."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't Alaric tell you I'm a lucid dreamer?"

"Lucid dreamer?"

"I can go into a lucid dream on purpose. I can take control of the dream."

She went very still. "You can control the dream?"

He smirked. "I fix bad dreams, remember?"

"Are you telling me that you plan to control Megan's dream?"

"Not immediately. I need to see her dreams first."

A dark chill whispered through her. "Okay."

"But I need your help."

Her eyes widened. "I know nothing about dream therapy."

"Megan trusts you. She would feel less intimidated if you are around when we see her dreams."

"We?"

"Yes. You and I."

"I'm not a talent. I can't see dreams."

His eyes burned. "I can put the two of us into the same trance. Then you will be able to see Megan's dream."


	4. Chapter 4

"Megan," Elena said quietly. "Where are you?"

"Listen!" Damon held up his hand and signalled for quiet. "There she is."

Elena turned and saw Megan watching her from the shadows. Megan looked frightened.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" she whispered.

"If you want to help her, this is the only way." He reached out and grabbed Elena's hand. "Make sure you stay with me."

She nodded. Although she thought she was braced for the physical connection, it was all she could do not to gasp when the electrifying shock zapped across her senses.

They walked slowly toward Megan.

"Megan, tell me what do you see?" Damon asked gently.

Megan's eyes widened. Her small face was contorted and bathed with sweat. She was weeping copiously, her lips blubbering. "I don't want to stay here!"

"We are here to help you, Megan," Elena said. "Tell us what do you see."

"Mommy! Mommy!" Megan screamed the name repeatedly. "I don't want to stay here!"

"I can help you, Megan," Damon said. "Let me help you."

"Mommy! I'm scared! Help me!" Megan cried out. Her tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.

Instinctively, Elena reached for her. Damon placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "You can't. We need to find out what's going on."

"Oh, no, Damon, please."

He shook his head stubbornly. "We have to."

So Elena just stood there and watched Megan. She squeezed his hands tightly while she lived through the hell the child's subconscious mind was being put through.

"No, no!" Megan gasped for breath. "He is going to kill you. Run! Run!"

"Who is here? Megan, tell me who is here?" Damon asked.

"He is going to kill you. He has a knife! Run!" Megan yelled out. "Run!"

A chill shivered through Elena. "Who is he?"

"He is dangerous. He wants to hurt you. He killed you once, and he is going to kill you again!" Megan stepped back. "He killed you once. He will kill you again."

"Who did he kill?" Damon asked as he moved closer to Megan.

"I don't want to see this anymore!" Megan screamed. "He is going to kill you!"

"Can you see his face, Megan?" Damon asked. "We will catch him and nobody will get hurt."

"Yes, tell us about him, Megan," Elena said. "We will stop him. We will catch him."

Megan turned to look at her. "He is going to kill you! He is going to kill you again!"

With that, the little girl turned around and ran.

"Megan, wait!" Elena reached out to grab Megan's arm and the little girl screamed. Megan fought hard to get away from her grip but Elena didn't loosen her grip on the girl's arm. "Megan, calm down!"

"He is going to kill you again! Run! Run!" Megan cried out.

"Damn!" Damon cursed. "This is getting out of control."

Elena went still. "What's going on?"

"This dreamscape is too powerful. We need to return to the surface now."

"What's going to happen to Megan?" Elena asked as she tried to pull Megan into her arms. "I can't leave her here."

"I'm not leaving anybody here," Damon said as he held out his hand. "Take my hand, Elena. Don't let go of Megan."

Elena hugged Megan closed to her despite the child was fighting to get away. She reached for his hand and he grabbed her wrist.

It came as a physical jolt when she felt his powerful fingers lock fiercely around her wrist in the waking world. The shock brought her instantly out of the dreamscape. Megan came with her.

Then Megan's eyelids began to flutter and, though her respiration was still choppy, it no longer sounded as though she had been running for miles and each breath might be her last.

Once her eyes had focused, she divided her bewildered gaze between Damon and Elena. It was into Elena's arms that she hurled her solid little body. "I'm so scared, Dr Gilbert."

Elena enfolded Elena in her arms and hugged her tight. She squeezed her eyes shut and thanked God for bringing back this child safely to this world. When she opened her eyes, they melded with Damon's. He extended his hand and stroked her cheek with his knuckle, then laid his hand on the girl's head.

"I think we should let Megan have a rest," Damon said.

Elena asked the nurse to give Megan a low dose of sedation so that her sleep would be uninterrupted. She had decided to stay back in the hospital to monitor Megan's condition in case something happened.

It was almost two a.m. when she returned to her office. Damon was sitting on the sofa. There was a bottle of water on the coffee table. The bio-cocktail of adrenaline and psi that always followed a heavy drain on psychic senses was still washing through him. He was edgy and restless. What he really needed was some fast, overheated sex with Elena, but it wouldn't be chivalrous to suggest it, given what she had been through just now. Instead he was using water to cool down. He had to rest. But he knew he would dream.

"Is Megan okay?" he asked.

"I have given her a low dose of sedation. She will sleep the whole night. Megan's mum is with here." She sat down on the sofa next to him.

"Good." He rested his head against the back of the chair.

There was a brief silence before Damon spoke again.

"I didn't expect Megan's dreamscape to be so powerful," he said. "I shouldn't have brought you along. You could be trapped there if something went wrong."

Elena turned her head to look at him. "What did Megan mean? She kept on saying 'he is going to kill you again'. Again? Who did he kill again?"

"I'm not entirely sure but I have got a hunch that Megan might have seen this man killed before."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," he said, keeping his voice very neutral. "He tried to kill before and he is trying to kill again."

"Are we talking about a serial killer here?"

"Maybe."

"What are we going to do?"

"What?" It was getting hard to concentrate. The deep weariness was getting heavier.

"If there is a serial killer, shouldn't we inform the police?" Elena reminded him. "What if he continues to kill?"

"What are you going to tell the police?" he asked. "It's a dream. There is no proof."

She bit her lower lip. "You are right. We have no proof."

"I will try to do a dream analysis on Megan again but right now I need to get some rest."

"You look exhausted," Elena said. "Are you okay?"

"I just need sleep."

"I thought you use your talent for your dream counselling. Do you always get so tired after using your talent?" she asked curiously.

"Not normally," he said. "I have to put you in the same trance as me to see Megan's dream. And I didn't expect her dream to be so powerful. That used a hell lot of my energy."

"Are you sure you are okay?" She sounded concern. "Is there anything I can help you to make you feel better?"

I need you, Elena Gilbert, he thought. "Stop worrying," he said. "I have been here before. I will be fine after a little sleep. I will go home now."

"You can't drive like this."

"I need my bed."

"You are not fit to drive like this. You stay here to rest." She made it a command.

He looked amused. "Are you always that bossy?"

"You can sleep here. On this sofa," she said adamantly. "I have some paperwork to do."

Before she could stand up Damon reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her down with him to the leather sofa, her body beneath his. He might be tired, but as he looked down at her, he couldn't mistake the desire in her eyes. Did she want him as badly too? He certainly hoped so.

Elena sucked in her breath. "I don't think…"

"You think too much."

He bent his head and covered her mouth with his own.

Elena froze beneath the impact of Damon's kiss. Damon was kissing her. After all these weeks of her wondering and fantasizing, he was actually kissing her.

Hot excitement flashed through her, erasing the momentary paralysis. She sank her fingers into Damon's shoulders. He responded with a low, husky growl that conveyed male hunger and need in the most elemental language of all. He deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth for him.

"Damon." She twisted beneath him, threaded her fingers in his hair. "Oh my goodness, Damon."

She kissed him with a ferocity that he took as a challenge, returning the embrace with the same passionate intensity. It was as if both of them had been waiting for this to happen for a very long time, and now that the moment was upon them, they were each determined to seize the opportunity.

He wrenched his mouth away from hers and stared down at her. He was breathing hard now.

"Damn," he whispered. "This is incredible. You are incredible."

Elena was dazed by the waves of passion that were coursing through her. She felt deliciously crushed beneath Damon's not inconsiderable weight. The heat of his body triggered a series of lightning strikes within her. She could feel the fires they ignited. The flames burned most intensely in her lower body, liquefying all that they touched.

She snaked her hand behind his head, pulling his head down roughly to meet her hungry mouth. He devoured her, his silken tongue dancing with hers, demanding and rough. Her hands fisted into his hair, needing him, wanting him inside her so desperately that she moaned into his mouth. She was lost, she knew it…and she didn't care. Breathing in the scent of him, tasting him, feeling his body on top of her turned her wild, insane to have him inside her.

"Elena, you have no idea what you are doing to me." He kissed her throat.

Realization burst through Elena's dazzled senses. "Oh, my God, you are right. This is all my fault."

"Huh?"

"It is the case." She squirmed out from under him, getting to her feet and leaving him laid out on the couch on his stomach "Don't you see? It is the situation we are in that is causing you to act like this."

"What the hell?"

"I thought this was all very sudden." Elena exhaled deeply. Her whole body was shaking.

"Sudden?" He narrowed his eyes as he sat up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's not as though you have shown any great interest in me until tonight."

"Elena, for God's sake, listen to me. You have got this all wrong."

"I don't think so." She glowered at him. "We have known each other for several weeks and you have never once indicated that you felt anything other than sort of friendly toward me."

"Sort of friendly?" Damon was beginning to look mildly dangerous.

Elena was mortified. "It is worse than I thought. You weren't even feeling particularly friendly, were you? That was just my imagination."

"Elena, I think we have a small problem here," he began in an ominous tone.

"Please, it is all right. I understand exactly what is happening."

"I'm glad one of us does."

"Well, they do say that women are more inclined to analyse situations."

"Hell."

"I have read about this sort of thing," she said defensively. "This is unprofessional."

"Unprofessional?"

She was suddenly outraged by his obstinacy. "Don't look at me as if you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm sure that as a dream therapist, you have faced this sort of situation hundreds of times."

Damon reached out to clamp a hand around her wrist. "For the benefit of this nonanalytical, slow-witted dream therapist, would you kindly explain what the hell you're talking about?"

Elena flushed. "You know what I mean. A situation like this, where two people are thrown together in close confines. A situation in which they face a threat of danger. Why, it's bound to generate a heightened sense of intimacy. Intimacy often breeds passion. Especially when the two-people involved are single and of the opposite sex."

"Hold it." Damon put his fingers against her lips to silence her. "Stop right there. Let's take this from the top. First, I have been a dream therapist for more than ten years, and I can assure you that I have never, ever made love to a client. Until now, that is."

Elena stared at him. "I see. But I thought you said I'm not your client."

"Yes, you are right. You are not my client. So there is nothing wrong for the two of us to be intimate."

"No, it's wrong."

He looked annoyed now. "Care to explain?"

"It's the adrenaline and hormones and things like that at work. Not genuine emotion."

"Yeah, right."

"You are exhausted. You should rest."

"Uh-huh."

Elena edged back to the door. "I will get some coffee and have a look at Megan. You should sleep."

Damon stood up. "I think if we want to continue to work together we need to be clear about something. Otherwise I won't be able to work with you."

She paused in the doorway. "Oh."

"We have to be completely honest with each other if we want to continue working together."

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

He spread his hands. "I will get right to the bottom line. Did you really kiss me a few minutes ago because you were driven into a paroxysm of violent passion by the close confines and threat of incredible danger that we face together?"

"Well, no. At least, I don't think so."

"So why did you kiss me?"

She gripped the edge of the door and lifted her chin proudly. "If you must know, I kissed you because I have been wanting to kiss you ever since I met you during that dinner when you first arrived to Mystic Falls. There. Are you satisfied?"

He stared at her as if he had just walked into a brick wall. "Elena."

"Have a rest, Damon."

Elena opened the door, walked out of her office and slammed the door behind her. She took a deep breath. After a few seconds, she opened the door again. Damon was still standing, staring at the door. "Why did you kiss me?" she asked.

His mouth quirked and a sexy gleam appeared in his eyes. "Same reason. Been wanting to do it since I met you that night."

Elena felt her insides turn to jelly. "Oh."

"See you soon."

"Right." Elena closed the door again, this time very quietly before walking towards Megan's room.

x x x

 _Joseph lifted her easily and perched her on the table in the upstairs hallway, and she laughed. Not because he had said or done something funny, but because she was so happy. She could not remember ever being so happy, not in her entire life._

 _"Your house is beautiful," she whispered._

 _"We will have this house by ourselves this weekend." He smiled at her. "My brother and sister-in-law are away for a business trip. They won't be back until Monday morning."_

 _She laughed again. "I'm all yours this weekend."_

 _"You have to stop seeing him," he said as he unbuttoned her blouse._

 _"I can't. He is my producer," she said as Joseph pushed her blouse aside and kissed her shoulder. A thrill of pure sexual sensation fluttered through her body. "I only love you. I love you with all my heart."_

 _"Then leave him."_

 _"Then take me out of Mystic Falls," she whispered. "We will go to Hollywood."_

 _She had planned to leave John Gilbert so many times, but she always chickened out when the time came. She loved Joseph, he made her happy, he made her laugh, in bed he made her scream in pleasure. But he had nothing to give her but love. That should be enough, and at times like this when he was minutes, maybe seconds, from being inside her, she believed it was enough. But when she was faced with the reality of walking away with nothing…she wasn't sure she could. Ever._

 _John Gilbert could make her somebody. She didn't want to be poor. She had never loved her agent but she still felt bound to him in a way she could not explain._

 _Joseph was a music talent. He could be someone famous in Hollywood. She could never understand why he would be contented to stay in a small town like Mystic Falls. But that didn't mean she didn't love this man. It was extraordinary; she had never known it was possible to love anyone as much as she loved her Joseph._

 _Joseph reached beneath her skirt, and his fingers teased the top of her stockings, flickering over bare flesh. She was perched precariously on the table. If he did not hold her she would surely fall, but she knew Joseph would never let her fall. She spread her thighs as he lifted her skirt, and reached out to stroke his erection._

 _"You are never going to leave him." Joseph caressed her intimately as he shared this awful truth. At times like this it was nice to pretend that they had a future, but she was afraid of the unknown, and he knew it._

 _"I don't want to talk about this now," she whispered. She wanted him so badly, she ached. Her body, her heart…he made her ache in ways she had not known possible._

 _"You never want to talk about this," Joseph said._

 _"Make love to me," she said as she began to unfastened Joseph's belt. She knew how to end this discussion that would never have a satisfactory ending. Sexual heat had brought them together and it would keep them together. Some days it seemed that they had more, but if this was all they had was it enough? Could she make it be enough?_

 _He growled at her and unfastened his trousers, and with anxious hands he pushed her skirt out of the way and pulled her underwear down and off. She couldn't wait to have him inside her. Her body trembled, and she grew damp._

 _He pushed into her, and as they became one she knew everything was going to be all right, somehow. She did love him. Maybe he didn't believe that she knew how to love, but she did._

 _"I do love you," she said as he pushed deep and completion teased her with a pulsing and a tingle and a shudder. "Oh, Joseph." She threw her head back, opened her eyes, and looked up into his face._

 _It was Damon Salvatore's face._

Damon came awake with a start, sitting up and gasping for air. It only took a moment for his breath to come more easily and his heartbeat to begin to slow. He shoved his trembling hand through his hair.

The dream was as disturbing as any of the dreams he had been having since he was twelve. But at least in those dreams he knew who he was.

But in this dream, he didn't know who he was. Who was he?

The truth washed over him in a shock wave that made him dizzy. He had loved Katherine; he had made her laugh and scream and cry.

And he had killed her.

He was Joseph.

What was going on?

He could not remember ever being so sexually aroused in his dreams. He felt Katherine's skin, and he had experienced a response that seemed real…not at all a fantasy.

Was he Joseph Salvatore reincarnated?

Did Joseph really kill Katherine?

There were thousands of questions going through his mind.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Memories of the night slammed through him. Elena. He had kissed Elena. And she had kissed him back.

She had wanted to kiss him since that night when they first met. So, she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Yes, he was right. The chemistry and hunger between them were so strong that first night when they met. And they had never faded.

The door opened and Elena walked into the office.

"You are awake," she said as she waved the cup of coffee in her hand. "I brought you an expresso."

"Thanks."

"How are you feeling?"

"Good." He smiled at her as he took the cup of coffee. He breathed in the delicious aroma coming from the steaming cup and his mouth watered. "Nothing better than an expresso first thing in the morning."

"I'm glad you feel better this morning," she said. "I saw Megan just now. She is still sleeping. The sedation works. She didn't wake up at all."

He stopped smiling. "She can't rely on sedation for the rest of her life."

"I know."

"She will have interrupted sleep if we don't fix her dreams."

She nodded. "That's why we need your help."

He frowned. "I'm not God. I can't fix every problem." He paused. "I sometimes have a few bad dreams of my own."

Elena's brows rose. "You can't fix your own bad dreams?"

"I haven't been able to fix these," he said as he sipped his coffee. "As a strong lucid dreamer, I can usually structure a dream to some extent. The trick to handling a bad dreamscape is to find a way out. But I haven't been able to find an escape route through my dream. So it keeps repeating."

She sat down next to him. "What's your dream about?"

He hesitated. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"I have been troubled by this dream since I was twelve," he said finally after a brief moment.

"That's when you started seeing the auras?"

"Yes." He paused and looked at her. "It was very vague initially. It was a dream of a man and a woman. They were lovers."

"Hmm."

"It was only a year ago when I had managed to find out more about the dream."

"What did you find out?"

"It was about my uncle, Joseph Salvatore and his girlfriend, Katherine Pierce."

Her eyes widened. "I have heard the names."

He drank more coffee. "Yes, Joseph killed Katherine and then committed suicide thirty-five years ago."

"Why are you having dreams about Joseph and Katherine?"

He leaned back against the sofa. "I don't know." He sighed. "That's why I need to find out."

"Is that why you came back to Mystic Falls?"

"Yes."

"Have you found anything since you came here?"

"No." He shook his head. "Believe me, I have thought about the dream a million times."

"You aren't sleeping well, are you?" she asked gently. "The dream is interrupting your sleep."

He looked at her and said nothing.

"You should get help, Damon."

"I'm not interested in therapy. I can handle my own damn dreams."

He thought she would be annoyed but to his surprise, she didn't. Her soft, warm hand closed over his.

"Listen to me, Damon. Someone can help you…"

He pulled his hand away. "No."

"Don't be so stubborn."

"I'm not," he retorted. "Mine your own business, Elena. I'm not one of your patients," he said very deliberately.

"Fine. Be like that. Your dreams, your problem."

"You are angry."

She glared at him. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"You know what? Yes, you are right. I'm angry. I'm pissed. You are the most stubborn, irritating, annoying and arrogant jerk. Why should I be worried about you? You can deal with your own business. I don't give a damn what your dreams will do to you..."

Elena never got a chance to finish. Damon's hot, hard mouth smothered her bitter words, never asking, simply demanding her response. He kissed her hungrily, fiercely, cupping the back of her head in his left hand while with his right he kneaded and stroked her breasts. After an initial squeak of surprise, Elena let herself sink against him. Needing more, she opened her mouth for him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She tasted of sweet coffee and raw temptation, and it nearly drove him mad. He covered her mouth over and over, trying to brand her as his. He snaked his forearms under her back, trying to pull her closer, her breasts tighter against his chest. He needed more. More of her, more of her heat. She moaned into his mouth as he plundered again, sweeping his tongue into the wet, warm cavity, greedy for her sweetness, wallowing in her essence.

Pulling his mouth from hers, he rasped, "You are the best medication ever."

"Damon, someone is at the door. I heard someone knocking," Elena panted softly.

Damn!

He looked at the door and then back at Elena, so damn tempted to ignore the knocking on the door again.

Damon raked his hand through his hair in frustration. "Talk about timing." He gave her a heated stare. "We finish this later."

Elena pushed him away from her gently. "Not happening. I have plenty of work to do today."

"We can finish this after you finish your work," he said gruffly.

She jumped up from the couched and gathered her hair in a ponytail. "You have plenty of work to do as well. You need to fix Megan's dream, remember?" She headed for the door.

"You will pay for this one, Elena Gilbert," he whispered to himself with a small smile as he watched Elena pulled open the door.

"Hey Elena." It was Alaric. "I heard Damon and you tried to see Megan's dream last night…" Then he saw Damon. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Damon smiled broadly as he greeted Alaric. "Elena and I have some important matters to deal with." Elena glared at him but he ignored her. "Hate to leave now but I have work to do. We have no time to waste." He winked at her. "We will finish this later."


	5. Chapter 5

"You are back," Megan said. "Again."

"I need to find the answer," Damon said. He glanced around. The surroundings were dark. "Care to tell me where is this place?"

Megan's blue eyes stared at him. He could see the fear in them.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Megan," he said gently. "I'm here to help you."

"You can't help me. You can't help yourself."

Damon frowned. "I can help you. But you have to trust me."

"I can't help you. I can't help her," Megan said in a tremulous voice. "History is repeating itself."

"What do you mean?"

"She gives you her body but not her heart."

"Megan, what are you talking about? You are not making any sense."

"History is repeating itself."

Damon looked around him for a moment, his incredible eyes luminous with a little psi. Energy shivered in the atmosphere.

"Tell me what do you see, Megan?"

"Love and hate is such a fine line."

"Who is she?"

"You are waiting for the return—or the reincarnation, whatever—of the woman you love, your precious love of your life."

"Who is she?" Damon asked again.

"You will know her when you see her, then you two will go off into the sunset together." Megan smiled faintly. "She will always fall for you."

"Can you describe her face?" Damon tried another way to get more information from Megan. "Is she beautiful? What colour is her eyes? Her hair?"

"History is repeating itself." Megan was starting to sound bored.

Damn. He is losing her.

"Megan, tell me about him."

That seemed to amuse her. "You don't get it, do you? You are who you are."

"Who is he?"

"You can't change the past."

"Tell me about the past," Damon asked. "Why does he kill her?"

Megan continued as if she couldn't hear him. "So many times, over and over again."

A chill shiver through him. This was not going well.

"Tell me more, Megan." His voice was desperate. He needed to know more. "Who is he?"

"History is repeating itself."

The sense of rising energy was thick in the air. This was not good.

"Megan!"

He opened his eyes. He was sitting in the interviewing room with Megan. The little girl's eyes fluttered briefly before she opened her eyes.

He reached out to touch the girl's head. "Are you okay, Megan?"

The little girl sniffled a yawn. "I'm just sleepy."

Damon was relieved. At least Megan was not being affected by her dream and psi energy. He smiled. "Want to have some ice-cream?"

The girl's eyes widened. "Can I have ice-cream?"

"You certainly can," he chuckled. "What flavour?"

x x x

Jo Parker came out of her bedroom, dressed in a bathrobe. Her long jet black hair was wrapped in a towel. She held two dresses on hangers, one in each hand.

"Which dress?" she asked.

Elena leaned back in the chair, stretched out her legs, steepled her fingers and surveyed the two offerings. The dress on the left was a short, sexy, black number. The tags were still pinned to the neckline. The dress on the right was a demure crepe sheath in beige.

"I like the black one," she said.

Jo studied it, unconvinced. "I don't know. Might be a bit too much for a fundraising night."

"You can't go wrong with a little black dress," Elena said. "I'm sure Alaric will like it."

"But don't you think wearing a sexy black dress will conflict with my image as a nurturing female?" Jo asked. "I'm the HOD of ER, you know."

"There's an exception to every rule. A fundraising night happens to be the exception to the little-black-dress rule."

"I am putting myself into your hands, Elena."

Elena smiled. "Trust me. The black dress suits you perfectly."

"Alright," Jo said. "I will wear the black one." She moved to her closet and hung the beige dress. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

Jo glanced over her shoulders. "What are you going to wear?"

Elena shrugged. "I have a few dresses in my closet. I'm sure I can find something to wear."

"You should wear something nice tonight." Jo looked at her. "I can tell you that your taste in men has already taken a quantum leap forward."

"Meaning?"

"Damon Salvatore is taking you to the fundraising night. How cool is that?"

"It's not exactly a date," Elena said quickly.

"Yes, it is a date, your second one, according to my calculations. Damon had dinner with you when he first arrived to Mystic Falls a month ago, hadn't he?"

"Well, yes, but the four of us had dinner together and I'm sure it didn't constitute a date."

"So dates with Damon are a little different than dates with other men. That's a good thing, if you ask me." Jo took out a hair dryer. "At least he is single. I heard Liam had a divorce."

Elena nodded. "He had called me a few times."

Jo raised her brows. "Is he coming on to you again?"

"Liam is past tense."

"Right." Jo nodded. "Liam is a total jerk. Think of it as an experiment that didn't go well."

"It was a mistake, not an experiment."

"Uh-uh." Jo wagged her forefinger. "You know what they say, it is only a mistake if you don't learn from it."

"I learned a lot from it," Elena said. "I'm not jumping into another man's bed without looking carefully."

"That's why you are so careful now before jumping into Damon's bed?"

Elena turned pink. "We are working on Megan's case together."

"And?"

"What?"

"You like him, Elena," Jo said.

She flushed, remembering the kiss Damon and her had shared that night after they had tried to catch a glimpse of Megan's dream. And they had kissed again in the morning.

"Well," she said quickly. "It's complicated, believe me."

"How complicated? He is single and so are you."

She bit her lower lip. "Damon said his talent doesn't make for stable, long-term relationships."

"And you believe him?"

Elena pleated the colourful bedspread with restless fingers. "I don't know. He's one of a kind."

"But you like him. And he likes you too. The way he looked at you that night during dinner…it is obvious he feels something for you."

"Yes. Maybe." She heaved an exasperated sigh. "I don't know. There is this tiny glimmer of a feeling inside that I just can't shake."

"Love is always going to require a huge leap of faith, a big scary leap over a hot pit of lava, and you might end up heartbroken, but you might be the happiest person on the face of the earth. Personally, I'm glad I took that leap."

"Wow." Elena was impressed. "That is deep, Jo."

"Yes, I know." Jo smiled a smug little smile. "That's why you need to go home now. Take a shower and get ready for the fundraising night. Remember to wear something sexy."

x x x

Elena stood at the window and watched Damon walk up the path to her front door. He was the most handsome and dangerous-looking man, she thought. He looked exactly as she had known he had look in a suit and tie. Gorgeous, sexy and irresistible.

The sleek, dark jacket he wore did nothing to conceal the feral quality. It only served to underscore the power in his shoulders. He looked exciting and dangerous. She was very certain that she had never seen anything so scrumptious in her entire life.

He carried a bouquet of pink lilies in one hand. He saw her standing at the window and smiled. A storm of butterflies exploded in her stomach.

She was playing with fire.

You would think she was a teenager greeting her date for the prom. But she was no high-school senior and Damon was definitely not a boy. He was a man in every sense of the word and that knowledge filled her with deep, feminine joy.

She opened the door. "You are right on time."

He appeared slightly startled and then amused by the compliment. "A man should never let a beautiful woman wait for him." He handed her the lilies.

"For me?" She took the lilies from his hand. "Thank you."

"I saw them in the florist on the way here. I thought you would love them."

"They are beautiful." She did not take her eyes off beautiful lilies. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Damon was pleased. "You really like them?"

"I love them. I have always loved lilies."

"I love lilies too," Damon said.

"My mum loved lilies too." She set the lilies on the coffee table. "I will put them in a vase when I'm back tonight."

Damon smiled. Another thing in common, he thought. Lilies. His gaze moved slowly, deliberately down the length of her red ruched V-front strapless dress, all the way to her strappy high heels and then climbed back up to her mouth. "You are beautiful tonight."

"Thanks. You look fabulous in a suit too."

"Amazing what a suit will do for a man," he said. But you are the one who looks good enough to eat, he added silently. Maybe later. The anticipation that had been riding him hard all day was suddenly infused with a deep knowing. This was exactly where he wanted to be tonight - with this woman.

Elena laughed and started briskly toward the door. "We can take my car." She reached into the tiny purse and produced her keys.

He caught up with her, managed to wrap his fingers around her arm and deliberately applied the brakes, forcing her to stop in the middle of the porch.

"Thanks for the offer," he said. "But since I will be driving, we will take my vehicle."

He popped the locks on the sleek blue Camaro sitting in front of the entrance.

"Nice car," she said. Genuine appreciation edged the words. "Dream counselling work must pay well."

"One thing about the counselling world—it's steady."

"This isn't a rental. Don't tell me you drove all the way across the country."

"You are good at this detecting thing. Yes, I drove across the country. I wanted some downtime to do some thinking. Those long stretches on the interstate are a good place for that."

She shot him a quick, curious glance, but she did not ask any more questions.

He opened the door on the passenger side and watched her slip into the front seat. Everything inside him stirred. What was it about women in strapless dresses? Scratch that. What was it about Elena in a strapless dress?

What was it about Elena?

Oh, shit. I have got it bad.

He wanted her, and he was almost certain she wanted him. They weren't kids.

They were mature adults. There was no need for games.

He made an effort to tamp down the heat and closed the door very firmly. He walked around to the driver's side and got behind the wheel.

"What did you think about during your long drive from New York?" she asked.

"Stuff." He fired up the engine and reversed out of the driveway.

"Your recurring dream."

"Are we back to my dream again?"

"Sorry," she said. "It's none of my business."

Her voice had gone flat and cold. He felt like he had just stomped on a butterfly.

"I apologize," he said. "Can we discuss about my dream some other time? I just want to relax and enjoy tonight."

She relaxed. "Apology accepted. But we will discuss your dream again, right?"

He chuckled. "You don't give up easily, do you?"

"Call it persistent."

Damon laughed softly. "Don't ever change, Elena."

She smiled.

He drove through the centre of town, passing the little boutiques and the small, crowded restaurants that fronted the tree-shaded square.

"I did a little analysis of my own today," he said after a while.

"What kind of analysis?"

"Megan's aura."

"What do you see in her aura?"

"Remember that my visions involve all sorts of misleading symbols and metaphors. When I go into my talent, I essentially slip into a trance, a waking dream. Those kinds of dreams can be just as hard to interpret as regular dreams unless I have context."

"But you said it is difficult to get context from a child."

"That's right." His mouth tightened at the corners. "The thing is, heavy dreams affect the aura, especially if they recur frequently and especially if the dreamer has a lot of psychic talent. What I pick up is the dream light energy in a person's aura. My intuition then interprets that energy. I don't always get it right, and it is impossible to do an accurate analysis when I don't have any context. But I can usually see enough to start asking the right questions. That's where I'm at with Megan's case."

Elena's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that Megan has psychic talent?"

He tightened his hands on the wheel. "She is twelve and I got my talent when I was twelve."

"This is unbelievable."

"That would explain the strong energy we encountered when we saw her dream the other night. Her psychic talent affects the aura which affects my analysis."

"Oh, crap," she said. "I'm not entirely sure her parents will be happy with what we find."

He did not say anything for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly.

"You may not believe what I'm going to say next."

A shiver went through her. "What?"

"I talked to Megan in her dream."

"And?"

"She is a powerful psychic."

"What do you mean?"

Damon shifted gears for the turn onto the road to Mystic Falls Hotel.

"After my conversation with Megan today, I am pretty certain she is a talent like me. She can see into the past and the future."

Elena's eyes widened. "She can see into the past and the future?"

He nodded. "Yes. I suspect the recurring dream she has been having is something that hasn't happened. She is seeing a man killing a woman in the future."

She looked at him, stunned and didn't know how to respond. Then she started to shake her head briefly before stopping. "This is the most bizarre thing I have ever heard."

Damon was silent for a beat.

"I don't know how to explain it," Damon said. "There is just something very strange about Megan's dream. A feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" she asked.

"I can't explain."

"Are you deliberately trying to frighten me?"

"No. I just want tell you there is something strange about her dream. I got the feeling it is just the beginning."

x x x

The Mystic Falls Hotel was an artful reproduction of an old-world Mediterranean villa. It sat on a tree-studded hillside and commanded views of the vineyards and the river. The fundraising night was held in the tasting room, a richly panelled space decorated in sunburnt hues of ochre and dark red. A wall of French doors had been opened to allow the party to spill out onto a broad terrace.

Elena was not surprised by the size of the crowd. Most residents of the Mystic Falls would support this annual fundraising event.

They were greeted by a smiling blonde, who immediately steered them toward a middle-aged man dressed in an expansive grey suit.

"I'm delighted to see you, Mr Lockwood. So glad you can make it tonight," Elena murmured. "Allow me to introduce Damon Salvatore. Damon, this is Mr Richard Lockwood."

The two men shook hands.

Richard looked at Damon. "Salvatore? Are you the new dream therapist?"

"Yes, Damon is helping us with a case at the moment," Elena answered before Damon could respond.

"So is it true that you can read dreams?" Richard chuckled. "Sounds like a storefront fortune-teller giving advises with a crystal ball."

"I'm aware of what the general public thinks about psychic counsellors. Most people assume that we are entertainers at best and scam artists at worst," Damon said. "I do my best to help my clients."

Damon's smile did not falter, but his dry tone of voice alerted Elena that he did not appear to enjoy his conversation with Richard.

"Why don't we get something to drink, Damon?" she took his arms. "Will you excuse us, Mr Lockwood?"

"Of course," Richard said politely.

She led the way through the crowd toward the long, polished bar. Damon fell into step directly behind her, staying close. There was something both intimate and protective about the way he made it clear that he was with her tonight.

She got a little thrill from knowing that he was close enough to touch. She had liked it earlier when he had wrapped his powerful hand around her arm to walk her to the car. She had liked it a lot. She liked the scent of him as well. The clean, masculine tang was infused with just a hint of aftershave.

He stood out in the crowd—at least he stood out to her. It was a good bet that many of the other male guests in the room wielded the kind of power that came with money and social and political connections. But Damon possessed a different kind of power. It wasn't just physical, she thought. It was the kind of strength that you could depend on at crunch time. The steel in Damon had been infused with old-fashioned virtues such as honour and courage and determination. He was the kind of man who would always take full responsibility for his actions.

She knew from the manner in which some of the other guests surreptitiously studied him that most of them had gotten the message. You did not want to mess with Damon Salvatore.

Several of the men surveyed him with a calculating air. She suspected that they were busily assuring themselves that in spite of what their instincts were telling them, their money and connections ensured that they held a superior status in the room. The women in the crowd viewed Damon in an entirely different manner. Elena caught expressions that ranged from curiosity to discreetly veiled sexual interest.

It was a lot easier to analyse the reactions of others to Damon than it was to understand her own disturbing response to him. She was fascinated with Damon Salvatore. She wanted him. It was the first time in her life she had ever known the full, blazing power of this kind of attraction and it both frightened and excited her.

They stopped at the long bar and ordered their drinks. Elena asked for a red wine and Damon wanted bourbon on ice.

"If we have got some time after the drinks," Damon said, "can I dance with you?"

"You can."

"There you are, Elena. What you are doing hiding in the corner?" Jo and Alaric walked up to them.

"Nice to see some familiar faces," Damon said as he took a sip of his bourbon.

"I want you to meet Gloria and Judy from the fundraising committee." Jo took Elena's arm. "Doubt the boys will mind if we leave them alone for a while."

Alaric watched the two vanish back into the crowd. He turned to Damon, his eyes gleaming with interest. "What's going on?"

Damon took another sip of his bourbon. "How the heck should I know?"

"You and Elena."

Damon raised his brows. "What about me and Elena?"

Alaric felt himself turning red. He was no good at this sort of conversation. In his opinion, there were excellent reasons why someone had invented the words personal and private. But Damon was his best friend and he would do anything for his best friend, including embarrass himself.

"Looks like the two of you hit it off pretty well," he said, going for casual.

"Elena is…different," Damon said.

"Yep, I can see that. I like her. She's got claws. That's a fine thing in a woman."

"Oh, yeah," Damon said. His mouth kicked up a little at the corner.

Half an hour later Elena emerged from the rest room.

"What's going on between you and Salvatore?" Liam's voice hissed out of the shadows behind her. His hand closed over her arm. His fingers tightened painfully. He spun her around to face him. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"It's really none of your business, is it?"

Liam's jaw tightened. "You will have to tell me what you see in Salvatore." He paused deliberately. "He is a dream therapist. A scam."

"You know, insulting me and the man I'm currently dating is probably not the best way to start this conversation. Now let go of me."

Liam's face worked furiously. "You know I like you a lot, Elena."

"You were married, Liam."

"But I'm divorced now."

"And you are wondering why him and not you? Give it a rest. Sometimes two people just don't click."

His fingers squeezed tighter. "But you and Salvatore have clicked, is that it?"

She glanced down at his hand. "Let me go."

"Listen to me, damn it, you can't walk away. Salvatore is not the right man for you. But I am."

"Take your hands off her," Damon said from the shadows behind Liam.

Liam released her and jumped back as if he'd just touched an electrically charged wire. He glared at Damon

"Salvatore." Liam jerked around to face Damon and then took another hasty step back. "This is a private conversation."

"I got the impression that Elena didn't want to continue it any longer." Damon glided forward with a deceptively lazy movement. His eyes never left Liam's face. "Was I mistaken?"

"This is none of your business." Liam's voice squeaked slightly. "I'm trying to talk to Elena. I'm her friend. I have a right."

Alarmed by the glint of predatory anticipation in Damon's eyes, Elena stepped quickly between the two men. "That's enough, Damon. Everything is under control."

"Is that right?" Damon said. His tone was icy cold.

"Liam and I have finished our conversation," she said to Damon. "And the last thing we need is a scene," she added in low tones as she whisked past him.

She held her breath, but in the end Damon reluctantly turned away from his prey and followed her to the long bar. Liam turned and waded into the crowd with casual ease, pausing to chat here and there before disappearing into the tasting room.

'What's going on there?" Damon asked.

"Nothing important."

There was a short silence.

"You know," she said, "I think I have had about all the fun I can stand at this party tonight. I'm ready to leave now."

"So am I."

Elena was still shivering a little when she slipped into the car and fastened the seat belt. Adrenaline, she thought, and nerves. She clasped her hands together very tightly in her lap and waited until Damon got behind the wheel and drove out of the winery parking lot.

Damon glanced at her. "Are you okay?"

She exhaled deeply. "I'm fine."

There was a long silence.

"How have you handled your relationship issues?" Elena asked after a while.

"Mostly I just avoid them."

"The commitment issues?"

"It is easier that way. I'm getting tired trying to pretend to be normal. The older I get, the less I'm willing to compromise. I have been told I'm becoming way too picky."

"Who told you that?"

"My parents," he said. "And Stefan, my brother."

"I'm not that great in the relationship thingy too. It seems like I always fall for the wrong one."

"The last woman I dated said I didn't share my emotions very well."

That surprised a small, tight laugh out of her. "We sound like a couple of real losers, don't we?"

The corner of his mouth edged upward. "Gives us something in common."

"You may be right."

He turned off the main road a short time later and went down the lane that led to the Gilbert's house. He brought his Camaro to a halt in front of the porch. The car's headlights revealed the trees along the neighbourhood. Damon killed the lights. The almost full moon took over.

"My parents tell themselves and everyone else who will listen that my problem is that I just haven't found the right woman. But deep down they are worried that I won't get lucky the way they did with each other."

She was not sure what to say next, so she let the silence lengthen. With each passing beat of her heart, the aura of intimacy in the darkened front seat grew stronger. She wondered if she was the only one who felt it.

She was trying to think of a way to break the tension when Damon spoke again.

"Megan could be heading the same direction I have led in the last twenty years."

"But you can help her, can't you?" she asked.

"I will try my best."

"I know you don't like dealing with children," she said. "I'm sorry for dragging you into the situation."

He turned to face her. "Whatever you do, do not say you are sorry," he said. "I'm doing this for my own reasons."

She managed a misty smile. "I know. You are doing it because you can't help yourself. Megan's case is intriguing."

"No, I'm doing it at least in part because I have got a few questions about what Megan's dream is really about. But I think I should make something very clear."

"What's that?"

"Mostly I'm doing this because of you."

She was not sure how to respond to that, but it didn't matter because Damon grabbed her and dragged her across the seat toward him.

"Damon…"

His mouth covered hers, and he kissed her. Shocked, Elena remained frozen as he pulled her against him and his lips coaxed hers apart. When his tongue slicked against hers, she moaned. It coaxed into her mouth, firm, decisive thrusts that were just as intense as the man himself. His hand moved to her nape and he held her against him, groaning her name between hot, fevered kisses. "Elena. God, Elena."

The way he said her name made her nipples harden. Her mouth parted under his and she fell into his spell. The flavour of him was sweet against her mouth. His lips were firm against hers, as insistent as his grip on her. When his tongue thrust into her mouth and then curled along her own, she moaned. Oh, God, Damon was such a good kisser.

He broke the kiss after a moment. In the moonlight his eyes were darkly brilliant. Fascinated, she touched the side of his jaw. He turned his mouth into her hand and kissed her palm.

"I want you, Elena" he told her in a low, husky voice.

"I want you too, Damon," she breathed, leaning in closer to him. "Make love to me."


	6. Chapter 6

She was going to do this. They were going to do this. She was going to have a ridiculous, exciting, passionate sex with a man. Not just any man. Gorgeous, serious, totally alpha Damon Salvatore who made her toes curl every time she looked at him. Who kissed like he had invented it.

And here she was inside her bedroom, standing near the edge of her bed. Alone with Damon.

He touched his fingertips to her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You are beautiful. I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you the whole night."

She leaned close to him, her gaze moving to his mouth. "Then kiss me?"

"You have to ask?" He leaned in closer.

"Asking is good," she murmured again, just as his lips met hers.

For the second time that night, she was swept away by his kiss. He had such an amazing mouth. She had kissed a few men, but none of them had ever kissed her with such…blatant ownership. Damon's mouth slanted over her own, his lips taking control first, followed by his tongue. She was helpless to resist, and parted her lips when his tongue brushed against her mouth. Then she was lost as his tongue thrust and rubbed against her own, the kiss moving from one of simple pleasure to something deeper. His fingertips played along her jawline as he kissed her, as if ready to hold her steady if they needed to.

His mouth continued to slant over hers, his tongue stroking deep until the world narrowed to Damon's mouth on hers and Elena was lost in the sensation. She had barely noticed that she was now leaning heavily against him, his body supporting her weight. When he shifted, she nearly toppled and began to giggle.

"Careful," he warned her. His voice was stern, but there was a crinkling around his eyes that told her he was amused. "It seems my kiss is rather dangerous."

"Extremely," she said breathlessly, resisting the urge to reach up and touch her lips. They felt swollen and soft and wet from his kiss. "In fact, I might need to lie down to get my bearings."

He pushed her back down onto the bed and covered her body with his own. A raging thrill flashed across her senses. She curled her leg around his thigh. The fabric of his trousers was rough against her skin.

"You feel good," she muttered. Her hand moved along his back, savouring the hard, contoured muscles. "Warm and strong."

"You feel good, too. Soft. Very soft. Sweet." He kissed her again, on her brow and then the tip of her nose. She felt his body growing taut.

"Damon…"

"Sweetheart," he breathed just before his mouth found hers.

Elena parted her lips for him, inviting him into her warmth and then there were no more words.

Damon's kiss grew suddenly fierce with a hunger that Elena responded to instantly. Locked in sensual battle, they rolled together across the bed. For an exhilarating time, she was on top, glorying in her power. And then he was pinning her beneath him, and she was relishing the sensual assault he waged on her body.

He got her out of the strapless dress and underwear and kissed his way down the length of her. When she felt the edge of his teeth on the inside of her thigh, she gasped and twisted her fingers in his hair.

He used his hands and his tongue on her until she was melting and desperate for him. Only then did he pause to sit on the side of the bed. She heard a foil packet tearing sound. He stood and strip off his suit, shirt, trousers and briefs.

When he came back to her, he lightly ran his fingers over her face, as if memorizing her features by touch. Then he leaned in and kissed her mouth, his lips featherlight against her own. He then kissed her cheek, his lips skimming her skin until he reached her jaw, where he pressed another kiss. Her chin was next, then her nose, and Elena closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on her skin, his weight over her.

Damon's mouth moved along her jaw, and then she felt him take her earlobe in his teeth and gently tongue it. A gasp escaped her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Like that?" he asked softly, and repeated the motion.

She bit back the moan rising in her throat and gave a small, jerky nod.

He nibbled on it for a moment longer and then slid his tongue down into the hollow underneath her ear and down her neck, causing shivers to move over her skin. Then she felt him slide farther down her body, and then his mouth latched on to her nipple, tonguing it.

Elena moaned, a jolt of pleasure moving through her at the touch. Her hands went to his shoulders, rubbing, then digging her nails in as he flicked at her nipple with his tongue before moving over to her other breast and beginning to nuzzle it. A hot ache bloomed between her legs, and she moaned again, unable to bite back her pleasure. His mouth was so skilled. She raked her nails across his shoulders, encouraging him.

He sucked hard on her other nipple and then released it with an audible pop. Dazed, she stared down at him in time to see him lightly flick his tongue over the wet tip, then look up at her. "Your breasts are beautiful." His hand gripped her breast, thumb grazing her nipple even as he leaned over the other one again. "You are driving me mad."

She drove him crazy? He was driving her mad. At his words, she arched underneath him, thrusting her breasts in the air so he could have full access to them, and was not disappointed when he pinched the tip of one at the same time that he licked the other. A bolt of pleasure shot straight to her sex, and her legs tightened around his torso. Her voice was breathy. "Damon."

"Love it when you say my name," he murmured, his lips moving against her nipple.

"Oh, Damon," she moaned when he nibbled at the tip again. "God, you feel so incredibly good."

"Let's see," he murmured, pressing a kiss between her breasts. His hand left her breast and skated down her belly, then lower, to her mound. A hot, thick finger slid between her folds. "Definitely wet."

She was. She was wetter than she ever remembered being with a man. And she was so turned on that she ached inside, her sex clenching as if she needed something—or someone—buried deep within her. "Oh, God."

"Elena," he murmured, and nipped her breast even as he slid that finger in and out of her. "I want you to say my name again while I'm touching you."

"Damon," she breathed, the word turning into a whimper when his slick finger moved to her clitoris and began to rub it. Her hips rocked involuntarily, and she clung to his shoulders, her nails digging into his biceps. His touch felt so amazing that her entire body seemed one big bundle of nerve endings, and they were all connected to the clitoris that he was rubbing and rolling under his fingers. Hot tension began to climb through her body, and she moaned low in her throat, her legs tightening around him. "I—I'm going to—"

"Come." He made it sound like a command more than a question, and as he spoke, his fingers worked over her clitoris even faster, circling quickly.

She cried out as her entire body stiffened in her orgasm, then bit her lip to hold back as he continued to rub at her clitoris in slow, teasing circles that made her orgasm seem to last forever. Her entire body was quivering when she finally came down, and she noticed her nails had made half-moons into his shoulder. "Oh," she breathed, removing her hand. "I'm so sorry."

He leaned in and kissed her, hard and possessive. "About what?"

"Y-your shoulder," she said, bewildered. "I'm hurting you."

"You're not hurting me, Elena," he said, and kissed her hungrily again, making the flames lick through her belly once more. "I want you to keep touching me. I don't care if you claw up my back." He tugged at her lower lip with his teeth and then whispered against her mouth, "I like your reactions. They feel real to me."

Another laugh bubbled up in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around his neck again. "I'm not very good at faking these things. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Not disappointed," he said, rocking his hips against hers in a slow, circular motion that made her entire body follow the movement, her legs sliding back around his hips again. "And I know you weren't faking."

That masculine smugness in his voice made her curious. "Exactly how do you know that?"

He pressed a thumb to her clit, and she cried out, her nails cutting in to his shoulders again. "Because of that." He slid a finger lower and circled around her opening, then ever so slowly pushed into her, causing her to gasp in reaction. "And that," he murmured.

"I want to touch you, Damon," she said softly, her hands moving over his arms and chest, caressing his skin. "I want to feel you."

"I want to be inside you," he murmured against her mouth.

He thrust into her. The thrilling shock of the heavy, deep invasion was almost too much. But even as she caught her breath, her body was already adjusting, her core clenching around him. She held him prisoner, demanding that he deliver on the sexual promises he had made.

He drove slowly in and out of her until she was mindless with need, until she could not abide the sweet, piercing tension for another instant.

Her release surged through her in waves. The experience was shattering, dazzling—unlike anything she had ever known. She opened her lips on a scream of astonishment and wonder. Damon covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cries, even as he rocked forward.

His climax powered through both of them.

He could have sworn that for a timeless, joyful moment, the currents of their auras seemed to resonate together. The sensation was at once unnerving and breathtakingly intimate. It was as if for a split second they were looking into each other's very souls.

I know you, Elena Gilbert, he thought. I have been waiting for you.

x x x

Damon awoke before Elena did. He glanced at the digital clock on the side table. Five a.m. He had managed to sleep without waking up because of his dream. It was the first time in the last twenty-three years. The pleasant memories of the previous night's sex with Elena brought a smile on his face. He felt good, really good—satisfied in every conceivable way that a man could be satisfied.

Elena was sleeping next to him. She shifted in bed, rolling over and tucking her cheek close to his shoulder.

A light snore escaped her.

Damon pulled the blanket off of her inch by inch. She slept on, though she moved a little closer to him as if seeking heat. Carefully, he traced his fingers over her shoulder and down her side, resting his hand on her hip. Her skin was soft and smooth, her hips plump, and her full backside made his mouth water.

She made a soft, breathy moan in the back of her throat and shifted onto her back. Perfect.

Damon leaned in and kissed her neck and then her shoulder. They were light, trailing nibbles that teased the skin. A soft giggle escaped her throat, the sound still too sleepy for his taste. Kissing along her arm, he reached over her and cupped her breast, thumbing over the tip and with a touch causing the peak to harden.

The sound she made in response was a low moan.

His thumb skimmed over the hard nub of her breast again, rolling it back and forth as he continued to kiss Elena's neck.

The woman was definitely a heavy sleeper, Damon thought with amusement. He nipped lightly at her shoulder, and when she rolled onto her back, he leaned down to take the stiff tip of her breast into his mouth.

Elena moaned again, and her hands went to his hair, digging into his scalp. "Mmm, Damon."

He flicked her nipple with his tongue. "I was wondering what it would take to wake you up."

"That's a good way," she said dreamily. Her fingers played with his hair.

"I knew we would be good together."

"Hmm."

A trickle of unease feathered his senses. He cleared his throat. "Are you going to tell me it wasn't that good for you? Because I will be happy to try again."

"No, no, that's okay."

"Okay?" He sat up. "It was just okay?"

"It was more like a first."

"First what? First time with a strong talent?"

"That, too."

Relief, delight and an exultant sense of euphoria surged through him. He laughed and flopped back down on the pillows. He dragged her down across his chest.

"It's not funny." She punched him lightly on the arm.

"Ouch. What am I supposed to say?"

"I don't know, but that definitely not a laugh."

He framed her face with both hands. "How about 'That was the best it's ever been for me, and I will remember this night for the rest of my life'?"

She looked dubious. "Would it be the truth?"

"It would be the truth."

Her soft mouth curved in a smile. "Okay. Do you wake up all your lovers like that?"

He didn't, but he also didn't feel like sharing that. "I felt asleep last night. So did you. We both fell asleep."

She looked confused. "I think I'm missing the point here. What's wrong with that?"

"I haven't been sleeping too well lately and I needed the rest. Nothing like great sex to do the trick. Better than meds, that's for damn sure."

"Are you talking about your dream?"

"No," he said quietly. "I can't sleep with a woman."

She raised her brows. "You can't sleep with a woman?"

He closed his eyes. "No. I can't sleep with anyone."

He opened his eyes and found Elena watching him very intently. "When I sleep, I dream more intensely than most people. My dreaming aura affects anyone who happens to come into physical contact with me. If that person happens to be asleep and dreaming, my currents overpower hers. The result, I'm told, is a particularly unnerving kind of nightmare."

"That's why your relationships don't work?" she asked softly.

He grimaced. "My first girlfriend had a very bad reaction to my dream aura. Same as my second."

She looked thoughtful. "You are trying to tell me that you sent your girlfriends screaming from your bed."

"I was planning to leave your room before I drifted off because I didn't want my dream aura to frighten you."

"But I was sleeping quite soundly."

"Yes, you were and so did I." He paused. "You are the first woman I have slept next to in my entire adult life that hasn't had a really bad reaction to my dream aura."

She smiled, savouring his words. Then she laughed, suddenly feeling more light-hearted than she had in a long while.

Damon frowned. "You think there is something amusing going on here?"

"No, absolutely not," she said, sobering fast.

"Yes, you do. I can tell."

"Well, maybe a little," she admitted. She brushed her mouth lightly across his. "I think I know why."

"What?"

She smiled. "Maybe you and your ex-girlfriends are not compatible in a way. But I'm different."

He smirked. "How different?"

"I think you have a kind of immunity to me."

"Now there is where you are wrong, Dr Gilbert."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I am anything but immune to you. Just the opposite."

He tightened his grip on her face and pulled her mouth down to his. He kissed her until she wrapped herself around him once more.

x x x

A long time later Elena awoke and stretched like a contented cat. Memories of the night before and earlier this morning clung to her mind like persistent cobwebs. Of course, she hadn't really expected to sleep with Damon. But now that they had. She didn't regret it in the slightest. The sex was incredible. No, it was better than incredible. The words Damon had said drifted through her thoughts: You are the first woman I have slept next to in my entire adult life that hasn't had a really bad reaction to my dream aura. A slow smile spread over her face as she thought about what he had said.

Sighing, she turned to the other side of the bed. It was empty. For a moment, she could have sworn her heart stopped beating, then she heard the sound of Damon making breakfast. She slipped from the bed, put on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, then padded barefoot into the kitchen.

Damon's attention was on the omelette he had just slid onto one of the plates of the table. The table looked as if it had been set for a party. Stemmed crystal glasses filled with chilled orange juice sat beside each plate. Candlesticks flanked a bowl filled with flowers that rested in the centre of the table. Linen napkins lay neatly folded beneath gleaming silverware.

A grin appeared on her face as she approached, and a silly, nervous giggle escaped her throat. "What's this?"

Besides the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her, of course.

He turned toward her, hauled her to him and kissed her with an intensity that made her knees go weak. "Ready for breakfast?" He reached for her hand and led her to one of the chairs, pulling it out for her with a flourish.

She sat, unable to stop grinning like a fool, especially when he leaned in and kissed the back of her hand. "This looks more like a feast," she said eyeing the beautifully set table.

"I hope you like omelette."

"It looks delicious."

Her stomach growled and they both laughed.

Damon sat on the chair. "You are hungry. Let's eat."

She smiled. "This is a nice breakfast."

It did. Damon savoured his second glass of orange juice, along with the last bite of the omelette and the sight of Elena sitting on the other side of the breakfast table. He could get used to mornings like this one.

Every time he looked at Elena, which was pretty much all the time, hot memories of the night stirred his blood. It felt good to be here with her in her house, looking forward to another day together. More than anything else at the moment, he wanted to be able to look forward to another night together. But he knew that wasn't going to be possible, at least not immediately. Megan's case and his damn dream had to be cleared up before he and Elena could figure out their relationship.

"What now?" she asked.

He blinked. "What?"

"What's the face?"

"What face?" He smirked as he finished the last bite of the omelette.

"That face."

He shrugged casually. "I'm happy."

Elena couldn't help but grin at Damon from across the table. This entire setup was just…perfect. He was perfect.

"There's something else I want to tell you," she said quickly. "Last night was different for me."

He smiled "Me, too."

"I mean, very different."

"Yeah, very different." He looked at her. "And special for me."

She smiled back at him. And she suddenly wanted to reward him.

With a devilish grin on her face, Elena set down her glass of orange juice on the table. One of Damon's dark brows went up, as if he were questioning her.

"Interested in dessert?" she asked in a low, purring voice. "I know just the thing."

"Dessert during breakfast?"

"Who say you can't have dessert during breakfast?"

"How can I resist when it's proposed to me like that?"

"You can't," she said lightly, and then slid out of her chair and under the table.

He stilled. She watched his legs shift in his chair as she crawled under the table toward him. "Elena?"

When she got to him, she sat back on her heels and put her hands on his trousers. He even had on his belt. She pulled at the buckle and began to tug it slowly free. "Just my way of saying thank you," she said. "Thought I would help myself to a little treat is all."

He groaned, and she felt his knees shift, spreading a bit wider. His hand reached under the table, and he cupped her jaw then brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"You don't have to do this," he murmured from above her.

"I don't have to do anything," she pointed out. "However, I want to do this. Now sit back and relax."

He did, his hands moving to the arms of his chair and clenching them. Good.

She leaned in and finished unbuttoning his pants, then lowered his zipper slowly.

"Jesus!" Damon hissed.

"This is nice." Elena removed his briefs and enjoyed his hot flesh against her skin.

He was thick and hard. He felt good in her hands, too. Firm and heavy, his skin hot against her own. She measured her fingers around his girth and found that they just barely met on the other side. Nice.

"I like this," she said in a low voice, running a finger along the length of his male hardness. He jerked under her touch, and she couldn't contain the chuckle in her throat. It was fun to affect him so much. She leaned in and lightly swept her tongue over the head of his male hardness, tasting the salty beads of wetness on his skin. So delicious. So hot.

Above her, he groaned, and she felt him grip the edges of the table. "Elena."

It sounded like he was gritting her name out between his teeth. She smiled and grasped his male hardness in her hand, circling the base with her fingers before leaning forward and taking him deeper into her mouth. Again, he groaned, and she began to work his thick length with her mouth, rubbing her tongue along the underside as she sucked him deep, pumping with her fist at the base to increase the sensation.

She could feel the slickness between her legs, felt the heat of her pulse throbbing through her body, cantered low in her hips. She wanted to rock them with every motion she made. More than anything, she wanted to please him, to make him lose control and come.

"Your mouth is amazing," he ground out. She felt one hand slide under the table, felt it tangle into her hair, and then he began to work her head. Moaning around his male hardness, she moved with the force of his thrusts, whimpering when he had butt up against the back of her throat. He was in so deep, filling her mouth up. His motions were abandoned, as if he weren't quite able to control himself, and she curled her fingers into his pants with excitement, feeling her own sex tingling with need.

"I'm going to come," he warned her. "If you don't—"

She leaned in, sucking harder, letting him know it was okay.

That was all it took. He breathed her name, and his fist tightened in her hair, his hand thumping on the table as he came in her mouth, his hot come wetting the back of her throat. She jerked involuntarily, swallowing and pulling back when he was done. She had hit her head on the underside of the table, she was pretty sure. She was also pretty sure that neither of them had noticed.

"Elena," he groaned. "God, your mouth."

She smiled to herself, pleased at his reaction.

His hands pulled her up from under the tablecloth. He had a slightly dazed expression, his hair was mussed and tousled over his forehead, and he was still a bit hazy from his passion.

She touched his cheek as she stood up, leaning against him. "Are you okay?"

A grin spread across his face. "Yeah. I'm more than okay." He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. "I'm definitely more than okay."

Her phone rang just as he was about to tell her that he wouldn't mind having that kind of dessert every morning. But Elena frowned when she glanced at the screen, and he knew the prospect of a really good day had just gone south.

"Hi, Isobel…No, I was at the fundraising night…Yes, I did receive the invitation…I know…I understand…Yes, of course I know I'm a member of the Founding Families." Her mouth tightened. "Right…I should be able to make it tonight. Sure, I will be there…I will see you tonight."

She ended the call and looked at Damon. "That was Isobel Fleming."

He went still. "Isobel Fleming?"

Isobel Fleming. Damon knew the name. He had come across this name when he researched on Joseph Salvatore and Katherine Pierce. Isobel was also an actress like Katherine. She had starred together with Katherine in a number of motion pictures and they were good friends. But Katherine was more popular. John Gilbert had become Isobel's agent after Katherine's death and they got married a few years later.

"My uncle - John Gilbert's wife."

"What did she want?"

"It's the annual dinner of the Founding Families. John wants me to turn up."

The Founding Families founded Mystic Falls back in 1860. The Lockwood, Fell, Gilbert and Salvatore families were the founders of Mystic Falls. Most of the members of the Founding Families were also members of Town Council. But the Salvatore families had not turned up to most events since the death of Joseph Salvatore.

"You are a member of the Founding Families. You should turn up to the annual dinner, shouldn't you?" Damon asked.

"Yes, but…"

"But you don't like the Founding Families."

"My dad was an active member of the Founding Families but since he passed away, I haven't really been involved in most of the events organised by the Founding Families."

"But John wants you to attend the dinner tonight."

"It's because he wants a vote from me."

Damon raised his brows. "A vote from you?"

"It's the annual committee election. I think he is interested in being the President," Elena explained.

"I see."

So John Gilbert wanted to be the President of the Founding Families.

Damon had spent years trying to figure out his recurring dreams. There were still a lot he still didn't understand. John Gilbert and Isobel Fleming were the crucial people linked to Katherine Pierce. It had seemed like fate. Meeting them was one hell of a good way to learn more. And he badly needed to explore the death of Joseph Salvatore and Katherine Pierce. His future was tied up with those recurring dreams.

"I've got an idea," he said after a brief moment.

"Yeah?" Elena looked at him. "What's that?"

"A date."

"A date?"

"Why don't I be your date for the evening?"

A speculative look gleamed in her eyes. "Are you serious about going to that annual dinner of the Founding Families?"

"Why not? The Salvatore family is also part of the Founding Families. I'm sure they won't mind if I turn up to dinner."

She gave him an odd look. "You are serious about this, aren't you?"

"Hmm, hmm." He looked at her. "Unless you got someone else in mind as your date?"

She gave him her brightest smile. "Of course not."

"But before we go on this date," Damon tugged at her shirt, dragging her closer, "we have something else more important to finish," he told her in a low voice.

"And what's that?"

He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her until she stopped talking.


	7. Chapter 7

The Lockwood mansion with its soaring marble columns, glittering crystal chandeliers, and magnificent vaulted ceiling was splendid. Well-dressed guests chatted in groups, their wealth and status obvious by their dress and their ease with the sumptuous surroundings. Fountains bearded with glittering artificial icicles spouted geysers of sparkling champagne while waiters circulated among the guests, offering hors d'oeuvres to those who didn't wish to help themselves from the giant silver-plated tiers laden with food.

Near the centre of the room, Elena stood beside Damon, his hand possessively at her waist, chatting with some of the members of the Founding Families. When the last group drifted away, Elena looked at Damon, her face lit up with sudden laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asked with a tender smile.

"You are very good at this," she explained. 'I'm glad you are here tonight. Otherwise I would be bored to death."

Damon was pleased. He grinned, his arm tightening around her. "Really?"

"Absolutely." Her smile wavered when she noticed John Gilbert and Isobel Fleming walking towards them. "Damon," she said quickly, "John and Isobel are heading this way."

He winked at her and whispered softly, "Time to meet the devil."

Elena tried to swallow a giggle as she watched John and Isobel coming up beside them.

"Elena," Isobel said. "So glad you could make it tonight. We just arrived this morning. We should definitely find a time to catch up."

Elena smiled. "Good to see you again, Isobel." She turned to look at John. "Hi John."

"Elena," John said. "It's good to see you." He switched his gaze to Damon. "I don't believe we have met."

"Allow me to introduce Damon Salvatore," Elena said. "Damon, meet John and Isobel."

John tensed. "Damon Salvatore? You wouldn't happen to be related to Giuseppe Salvatore, would you?"

"He is my father," Damon answered. "Joseph Salvatore was my uncle."

Both John and Isobel caught their breath as he mentioned Joseph.

John Gilbert appeared to be the suave, slick, and sophisticated that he had been expecting. His wife Isobel came across as coolly polite and reserved. Once you got past her long, elegant jaw and patrician nose you could see something that resembled anxiety in her beautifully made-up brown eyes. John and Isobel had a couple of things in common, Damon decided. They were both on edge, perhaps even scared.

But when Isobel turned her attention to Damon—which happened pretty much in the blink of an eye—the icy veneer vanished beneath a gracious charm.

"No wonder you look really familiar." She studied Damon closely. "Your eyes, your hair and the way you hold yourself," she murmured. She smiled again. "You look like Joseph."

"Funny, I don't think anyone noticed before," Damon said. "You must have a close relationship with Joseph, Isobel."

Isobel blinked, caught off guard. "Well, Joseph was involved in the music production for one of the motion pictures years ago. We sort of worked together. And you know, Mystic Falls is a small town. We ran into each other every now and then."

"Right." Damon looked at John. "You must know Joseph quite well, John, since you also grew up here."

John's jaw tightened. "I do know your uncle but we weren't close."

"Really?" Damon said coolly. "I thought you two were fairly close to Katherine."

A fleeting frown flickered across John's noble features, and then it was gone. "You seem to be quite interested in your uncle's past."

Damon shrugged casually. "I tend to be curious by nature."

"What do you do, Damon?" Isobel asked.

"Damon is helping me with a case," Elena answered.

John looked at Damon. "You are a psychiatrist?"

"No, I'm a dream therapist," Damon answered. "I deal with clients who have problems with their dreams."

Isobel shot John a quick, unreadable glance. "I see. Sounds interesting."

"Here comes Richard and Carole." John took his wife's arm. "We should go and say hi. You will excuse us?"

"Yes, of course." Elena smiled. "I will see you both later."

Isobel gave Damon a glowing smile. "Nice meeting you, Damon. Enjoy yourselves."

She glanced once more at Damon and then turned quickly to follow her husband before they disappeared into the crowd.

Something in Isobel Fleming's gaze caught Damon's attention. His instincts went on yellow alert.

Not red alert, Damon noticed, just yellow. But a warning light had definitely flashed. He felt Elena go very still beside him. He wondered if she had sensed the same thing he had.

No doubt about it: Isobel Fleming and Joseph Salvatore had a history.

Elena turned to look at Damon and cocked her brow. "Care to explain what was all that about?"

Damon hesitated. "Okay, I will admit that I turn up to dinner this evening because of John and Isobel."

"Because of your uncle?"

"Did you see the way they reacted when I mentioned Joseph just now? I suspect there may be some kind of connection between them."

Elena's eyes widened. "You think they had something to do with Joseph's death? But Joseph killed Katherine and then committed suicide."

"Are you sure it was Joseph who killed her? Someone might have reconstructed the crime scene to look like…"

"Elena!" A man's voice rose above the din of nearby conversation. "Elena Gilbert! Is that you?"

Damon glanced up to see a handsome young man moving towards them. He had the height, the dark hair, the chiselled features, the gym-toned body and the savvy, nothing-gets-past-me eyes.

"What a terrific surprise," the young man said.

"I'm delighted to see you, Tyler," Elena murmured.

"Didn't know that you would be here," Tyler crowed. "This is great. Nice to see a familiar face." He smiled warmly at Elena and held her fingers a beat longer than necessary.

"It has been a long time since we saw each other," Elena said. "Let me introduce you to Damon Salvatore. Damon, this is Tyler Lockwood. Tyler and I were in the same class since first grade."

"A pleasure," Tyler said. "Greet to meet you, Damon."

"Any friend of Elena." Damon's expression switched to a coolly polite, business-like look. The handshake between the two men was brisk and short. One alpha acknowledging another and also doing some sizing up, Elena decided.

"Elena is more than a friend," Tyler confided. "We grew up together in Mystic Falls. But I left Mystic Falls to join NBA after high school. We sort of lost contact since then."

"Right." Damon slanted a quick glance at her. "You two must be pretty close."

"Yes, we were very close, weren't we?" Tyler beamed at Elena. "Matt, Caroline, Bonnie, you and me – we basically stuck together since first grade until graduation."

Elena smiled at him. "We had a great time together, hadn't we? I miss those days sometimes."

Tyler took out his phone and tapped it a couple of times. "Give me your number, Elena. We could have coffee together. I'm here for two weeks before I have to return to New York."

Elena took Tyler's phone and keyed in her number. "Sure but maybe later next week?"

"No," Damon said before Tyler could respond. He looked at Elena. "You won't have any time next week. You and I have far more important things to do than having coffee."

She stifled her irritation and gave Tyler a bright smile. "I will get in touch when I have got some free time."

Tyler cleared his throat. "Sure. Give me a call and we could catch up." He dropped his phone into his pocket. "Nice seeing you again, Elena." He nodded, ever so slightly, to Damon. "And you, Damon."

He turned and waded into the crowd with casual ease, pausing to chat here and there.

"Don't," Elena said firmly, "ever do that again."

"What?" Damon asked. He took a sip of the wine in his glass.

"Tyler is a friend. I haven't seen him for ages. There is nothing wrong having coffee with a friend."

"I think he intends to have coffee in your bedroom," Damon said.

"I doubt that very much. You leaped to a dumbass conclusion, admit it."

"Dumbass?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Tyler and I have known each other since first grade. We are friends."

"What makes you so sure he is not interested in you?"

He knew it was dumb, but he couldn't suppress the flicker of jealousy that crackled through him.

"Was Tyler your high school sweetheart?" he asked.

Elena shook her head. "No. He is a friend, not my boyfriend. I hadn't gone out on dates with him."

"Would you go out on a date with him if he had asked?"

Elena narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?"

"I'm just trying to warn you to be careful with the people around you. You never really know who they are or what they are after."

"It's my own business. I can handle myself. I'm a mature adult. Don't treat me like a child."

Damon winced. "Sorry."

"I know, you just can't help yourself." She patted his arm. "I realize you mean well. But stop acting like a father."

He looked down at her fingers on his arm. When he raised his head, his eyes were charged with a dark warning. "In exchange for not treating you like a child, I would appreciate it if you didn't pat me like a dog."

She yanked her fingers off his arm. "Right. Sorry. Does it strike you that we are snapping at each other?"

"I noticed," Damon said.

"We are both a little tense tonight. The last thing we should be doing is quarrelling."

Damon tossed the wine down. "You are right. I will get myself another drink." He looked at her empty glass. "Do you want another drink?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to the ladies room."

As soon as she reached the ladies' room, Elena walked over to the sink, bracing her hands on the tiled counter in a posture of annoyance. What was wrong with Damon? He was acting like a jerk.

"You two lovebirds quarrelling already?" Isobel came inside and walked over to the sink. She shot Elena a sideways glance as she leaned forward to reapply her lipstick. "How long have you two been together?"

Elena stilled. "Damon and I…" She stopped abruptly, as though not quite sure what to say, before finishing hesitantly. "We are friends."

Isobel smirked. "You are sleeping together—I know that much. It is not hard to tell from the way he is looking at you." She turned and started to walk away, but she paused and looked back over her shoulder. "Tell you what. Because you are John's niece, I will give you a little free advice."

"What's the advice?" Elena asked.

"Stay away from Damon Salvatore."

"Why?" Elena asked.

"You do not want to get involved with him. He will break your heart, honey."

'What makes you say that? You hardly know Damon."

"Damon is a dead ringer of Joseph Salvatore."

"Damon is not Joseph," Elena argued back.

"For generations the Salvatore men are well known to display womanizing tendencies with the opposite sex. I don't think Damon will be exceptional."

"You know the Salvatore family fairly well. I'm fairly certain you and Joseph Salvatore had a history. Am I right?"

Isobel looked at Elena. "We had worked together."

"What's Joseph Salvatore like?" Elena asked quietly.

Isobel exhaled slowly. "Joseph Salvatore was a musician. He was so good in his music. He was really talented. Charming, sexy and good looking, Damon is a lot like him. He was two years older than me and I had been as dazzled by him as every other female who had worked with him."

"It was such a tragedy, wasn't it?" Elena said. "He was pretty young when he died."

"Twenty-five. He was twenty-five."

"Did you two date?"

Isobel grimaced. "No. He felt nothing for me."

"He was in love with Katherine," Elena said gently.

Isobel grunted. "He fell for the wrong woman. Katherine was the wrong woman for him."

"You know a lot about Katherine."

Isobel stepped back nervously. "Well, Katherine and I had acted together in a few motion pictures." She pulled herself together with a visible effort and gave Elena a warm smile. "I better get back to John."

"Thanks for the advice, Isobel," Elena said.

Isobel walked off again. This time, she did not look back.

Damon was right. Isobel and Joseph Salvatore knew each other at some point in the past. And she was certain that Isobel was in love with Joseph Salvatore.

All the guests were seated at the table when Elena got back from the ladies' room. Richard Lockwood stood up to make the big announcement. She made her way back through the shadows to the chair beside Damon. She felt his attention rest briefly on her profile and sensed his curiosity.

He started to lean toward her, as if about to ask her what was wrong. Fortunately, his attention was distracted a moment by Richard Lockwood, who had just launched into his speech.

"I want to thank all the members of the Founding Families here tonight. The greatness of this country lies in its people. And we, the founders of Mystic Falls are doing our best to make this town a great place for our family and children…"

"Oh, hell," Damon muttered, sounding amused. "I hate speeches."

Elena punched his arm lightly. "Pay some respect to the Mayor, Damon."

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, boss."

Elena swallowed a giggle.

"Now it's time to announce the new President of the Founder Families. And the highest votes go to…"

There was a short pause. "Logan Fell still has the highest votes and he will continue to be our President," Richard said.

The gathering erupted as Logan Fell stood up. The applause was led by Richard. It metamorphosed into a standing ovation. Elena and Damon got to their feet and clapped along with everyone else. His wife, Judy Fell stood a little behind and just to the right, glowing with wifely pride.

"Your uncle will be disappointed," Damon said.

Elena looked at John. He did not appear to be enjoying himself. So was Isobel. She certainly didn't look thrilled.

"Definitely not the night for John," she agreed. "He is having a hard time getting the votes tonight. John has never been popular among the Founding Families."

"As far as I can tell, he is a jerk." Damon eyed John and Isobel with an assessing gaze. "Nobody will vote for a jerk."

The applause died away and everyone took their seats again.

Elena looked amused. "Obviously you don't like John."

"He doesn't like me either," Damon said. He sounded weary. "I'm not surprised. I'm not a nice person."

"Oh, Damon." She reached out and held his hand in hers. "You are nice…..ish."

"Not helping."

There was a short silence. Elena set her barely touched wine down with great care on the table. For some reason, she wanted Damon to believe her.

"You know," she said, "I think I have got an idea."

"What idea?"

"Let's get out of here and I will prove to you that you are nice," she said in a low and seductive voice.

"Sounds like a great idea," he said softly, his voice sultry.

x x x

A short time later Damon stood in the centre of Elena's living room, slowly looking around at the cosy room as if he were fascinated by every piece of furniture and each knick-knack. He picked up a photograph of her parents and her in an ornate antique frame from the end table near his hip. He put the picture back, and then let his gaze drift from the book shelves in the living room to the dining room table with its silver candlesticks, to the chintz-covered Queen Anne chairs before the fire.

"What are you doing?" Elena asked as she came out of the kitchen with two mugs in both hands.

He looked around at her then, and the quiet amusement in his eyes was almost as startling as what he said. "I'm satisfying years of curiosity."

"About what?"

"About you," he said, and Elena could see tenderness in his expression. "About how you live."

She smiled and settled the mugs on the coffee table.

"What are you drinking?"

"Chamomile tea. It's very soothing. Helps you sleep."

"No, thanks." Damon grinned, letting his gaze rove over her. "I have got a better remedy. Come to bed and I will show you."

She watched him walk forward, finally stopping in front of her, both hands in his pockets again. "You know something? This is beginning to have a familiar feel," he said with a boyish half smile.

"What is?"

Lifting his hand, Damon laid it against her smooth cheek. "Going to bed with you every night. It's getting to feel sort of comfortable and natural."

She said nothing. He didn't like the hint of uncertainty he thought he saw in her eyes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Maybe it feels a little too familiar," she suggested, not meeting his eyes.

Damon tensed. "What the hell does that mean?"

Elena shrugged. "Nothing. I just thought you might be getting a little bored with life in Mystic Falls. This isn't exactly an exciting place."

He relaxed, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to meet his gaze "It is exciting enough for me."

Elena swallowed audibly, mesmerized by the melting look in his blue eyes and the rich timbre of his deep voice. "There's a lot I don't know about you," she whispered.

He brushed his lips along the curve of her jaw. "But I know you and I know what you want."

"So, Damon, tell me," she whispered against his mouth. "What is it that I want?"

"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, an adventure, and even a little danger."

His mouth closed over hers. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with a sensual hunger she had always experienced whenever she was with Damon. Excitement sent adrenaline sparking through her.

By the time he freed her lips and moved his mouth to her ear, she was hot and cold, breathless and a little shaky. She clutched him, savouring his scent and the hard feel of his unyielding body. When she kissed the warm skin of his throat, he exhaled deeply. It could have been a sigh of pleasure or surrender or exultation. She could not be sure. But his breathing was harsher now.

He used one finger to raise her chin. His mouth came back down on hers in another intense kiss. She could feel the heat of the fire that smouldered just beneath the surface.

He picked her up and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. Through the fabric of her dress he could feel the sleek muscles of her thighs. His body stirred eagerly, the familiar, powerful hunger beginning to seize him.

By the time he got her into the bedroom and slipped off her dress, Damon was aroused and ready. He pulled out a condom before gently placed her on the bed and covered her body with his own. As she lay there naked he ran one hand down the length of her body, luxuriating in the feel of her gentle curves. She was so soft and sweet and warm. He palmed her breast and felt the instant tautening of her nipple. When he heard her faint intake of breath, he groaned and bent his head to capture her mouth.

Her hand trailed down his hip to tease the inside of his thigh, then she took his hard manhood into her palm. She could drive him over the edge with just her touch. She knew exactly how to stroke him, sensed precisely how to cradle the throbbing fullness until he was on fire for her. When she squeezed gently, it was his turn to suck in his breath.

"Jesus, honey, that feels so good," he said huskily. "You have got the magic touch."

"Thanks to you," she murmured demurely. "I have learnt a lot from you."

"Remember that," he retorted as a wave of possessiveness surged through him. "This wouldn't work with anybody else."

"Is that right? I thought all men were pretty much the same in the dark."

"A vicious myth. Totally untrue!" Deliberately he parted her legs with his hands, seeking the hot, damp core of her body. "Elena, I'm not joking. What you and I have is special and you know it."

He sensed her smile in the darkness. "You are right. No women can tolerate sleeping next to you except me."

Damon grinned. "Well, that's very true. You are the only woman who didn't scream running from my bed."

"Don't you ever forget that."

"Uh-huh." He prowled slowly down her body, inhaling her intoxicating scent as he drew closer and closer to his goal. He settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs over his shoulders. He parted her gently with his fingers and lowered his head.

"Damon."

Her short, neat nails dug into his shoulders as he tasted her rich, hot flavour. He could hear her small gasps of pleasure and gloried in the way she responded to him. He would never get enough of this kind of reaction, Damon thought as she shivered in his arms.

Elena had a way of making him shatteringly aware of his manhood. He was addicted to the sensation.

Deliberately he deepened the intimate kiss, revelling in her earthy, feminine taste and scent. Elena's nails raked his skin. She would leave her mark on him tonight and he was determined to leave his on her.

It was all he could do to hold himself in check as he listened to her husky cries of delight. He sent his tongue on passionate forays until she was a shuddering, writhing bundle of femininity.

Then he could wait no longer. When he felt her body begin to tighten, he surged up along the length of her. She reached for him, pulling him close and wrapping her legs around his waist. He found her mouth and let her taste herself on his lips. The erotic kiss drove him wild.

"Hold me." His voice was hoarse with passion. "Hold on to me, Elena." He needed her when he was in the grip of his own raging desire.

"Yes, Damon, oh yes."

He pushed slowly, heavily into her, needing to feel the silken walls of her soft passage close around him.

She was tight, and so warm. Then, under his insistent, filling pressure, the hot, moist sheath began to accommodate him. He buried himself deep inside until he lost himself in her clinging heat.

Together they lost themselves in the rippling, clashing currents of desire. When Damon felt Elena convulse around him and heard the tiny, unmistakable cries that signalled her release, he gave himself over completely to the surging sea.

His own climax followed soon after hers. A hoarse shout of triumph and satisfaction shook him. Then he collapsed, his head on her breast. His chest was damp, as traces of his perspiration mixed with hers. He savoured the last, fading tremors deep within her body. He was still inside her, and the effect was similar to an exquisitely gentle massage on me most sensitive part of his body.

He waited a long moment, enjoying the sweet, lingering aftermath of their lovemaking. Then he withdrew reluctantly and rolled to the side. He settled her within the curve of his arm and told himself that he was right all along. Elena Gilbert was the one for him.

x x x

Something was wrong.

She wasn't laughing this time.

She screamed, she begged him to stop…then blood bloomed on the front of her white nightgown, and the screaming abruptly stopped.

He shook his head.

No, this was wrong.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He was missing something.

There was blood everywhere. Blood on his hands, on his face and on his shirt.

"Damon, wake up."

Elena's voice shattered the delicate threads of the trance dream. Damon slipped into the strong, disorienting currents of the river between the underworld and the waking world and struck out for the far shore.

When he opened her eyes, he saw Elena leaning closed to him silhouetted against a senses-dazzling fire of amber ultra-light.

He reached for her hand to lead her out of the lightning storm.

"Run," he whispered. "Now."

Her hand closed around hiss. She was very warm to the touch.

"Run," he said again. "You need to leave this place."

"Take it easy," she said. "Everything is okay. You are dreaming."

"You are the one who is in danger."

"Not now," she said. "Not tonight." She put a hand on his arm. "You are still dreaming. Time to wake up."

"You are not safe around me," he said. "You need to leave."

"Look at me, Damon." She grabbed his face. "It was just a dream."

"No." He shook his head. "I will hurt you."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will hurt you…" She planted her mouth solidly over his before Damon could finish.

He had never felt so alive in his life. He was going to go up in flames at any moment. The blood beat heavily in his veins, and the ache in his loins was almost painful.

Damon held on to the woman in his arms with all his strength, afraid she would try to slip away from him.

She opened her mouth for him and he tasted her, whetting his own appetite even further. He cradled her legs between his own, anchoring her firmly against him. Then he slipped his hands on her back and traced the graceful line of her spine. She was supple and warm and very, very feminine. Damon groaned as desire raked him across hot coals.

They were both breathless and panting heavily when the pulled apart. Their eyes collided as she tipped her head back. Damon heart stuttered as he saw the hungry, passionate glow of her gaze.

"I know you won't hurt me," she breathed.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered huskily.

"It was just a dream," she said softly. "It was not real. We are real."

He realized that he was still swimming in the dark, eerie river of dreams. It wasn't the first time he had found himself trapped in the strange currents. He crossed this river every time he went into and out of one of his own trance dreams.

He always made the passage as swiftly as possible because it was a dangerous place, a scary place with unseen depths. Each time he made the treacherous passage, part of him was afraid that if he did not reach the safety of the opposite shore quickly, he would be swept over the falls into a cauldron of churning energy from which there would be no escape.

But he'd had a lot of practice making the crossing.

He took a deep steadying breath, pulled on his talent and hauled himself up out of the treacherous currents. He lowered his talent and allowed the real world to coalesce around him.

The first thing that struck him was that he was not alone. Elena was there. They had made love during the night and he had fallen asleep after that.

He looked at Elena. With his senses lowered, she no longer appeared enveloped in hot ultra-light. In the deep shadows, he could tell that she was naked.

"Oh, crap," he said. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to alarm you."

Elena smile. "You didn't alarm me. It was just a dream."

"No, it wasn't just a dream. It was a trance dream, and you don't have to act like it fell into the category of normal. People are always freaked out by the way I dream. I told you, my talent is a serious problem when it comes to relationships."

She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. "Oh, yeah, right. You send women screaming from your bed."

"Okay, maybe not screaming. But there were some extremely awkward partings back in the days when I was trying to fall in love and pretend that I was normal."

"You don't have to pretend, Damon," she said. "You just have to be yourself."

He knew that he was out of the dream, but there was a familiar, dreamlike quality in the atmosphere. An effervescent energy swirled around him, teasing and arousing his senses.

"Are you sure you are not afraid?" Damon asked.

"I know you would never hurt me."

Her trust and faith in him nearly brought him to his knees. "You won't run away from me."

She smiled at him. "No, I won't."

He reached out and gently tumbled her down across his chest. Instinctively Elena struggled to find her balance, but she didn't pull away once she had braced herself. She sprawled on top of him, her face very close to his.

"I'm glad you want me, Elena."

Damon kissed her hungrily on the mouth. The kiss grew deeper, until she was shuddering in response.

"I want you, Damon."

"Look at me. Open your eyes and say it."

Her long lashes swept up, revealing the beautiful dark brown eyes of hers. "I want you so much, Damon. I have never felt like this before in my life."

Her honesty almost shattered him. "It's the same for me," he admitted harshly. "I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in this world."

He surged into her at that moment. He felt her quick, indrawn breath and the shudder that went through her. She was hot and tight. Her nails scored his shoulders.

Then she was clinging to him as if he were a lifeline, lifting herself to meet his demanding thrusts.

"Damon."

She felt the rigid tension in the muscles and bone beneath his skin and knew that he was no longer in control either. His release crashed through both of them.


	8. Chapter 8

A long time later Damon stirred on the bed. He felt Elena wriggle on top of him. One sleek leg slipped between his thighs. A plump little nipple moved against his chest. Damon smiled. Damn, but he felt good after making love to Elena. There was nothing else in the world that felt as good as this.

"Damon?"

"Yeah?" He speared his fingers into her sexy hair.

She raised her head and looked down at him with her unsettling, fairy eyes. "You never got around to telling me what you were thinking about earlier. Something to do with Joseph's death."

Damon remembered his dream. He stared at the ceiling. The dream he had been having since he was twelve which held something he couldn't figure out.

Disturbing thoughts trickled back into his head, driving out the sultry satisfaction that had held him in temporary thrall.

"I agreed to turn up to the annual dinner for the Founding Families because I wanted to meet John and Isobel."

"What about them?"

"John was Katherine's agent and Isobel was her good friend." Reluctantly Damon eased the soft, inviting warmth of Elena aside and sat up beside her. "John became Isobel's agent after Katherine died."

"Do you think they were linked with Katherine's death as well?" Elena pulled the quilt to cover her naked body. "We are talking about murder here, Damon. I can't just bring myself to believe they would do something like that."

Damon said nothing for a moment. Then he stood and went over to the window.

"I don't believe Joseph killed Katherine," Damon finally said softly. "No, he wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure he didn't kill Katherine?"

"Katherine was the love of his life. He wouldn't hurt her."

"Jealousy can make people do crazy things."

"No," he snapped back. "He wouldn't harm her." I would never hurt the love of my life, he added silently. Neither would Joseph. The Salvatore men would never hurt their women.

"You are so convinced that Joseph didn't kill Katherine. Did you manage to find some evidence?"

Damon shook his head. "No. I just know it."

She looked confused. "I don't understand."

Damon bent down to pick up his shirt and put it back on. Then he walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"I have been having this dream since I was twelve," he said softly. "In this dream, there was a man and a woman."

"Joseph and Katherine," she whispered.

"I didn't know who they were until a year ago," Damon explained. "I started seeing auras of people who were dreaming at the same time when I started to have this recurring dream. I was so freak out about my talent at that time so I didn't pay much attention to the significance of this recurring dream. Then Sage came along."

"Sage?"

"Yeah. Sage is my mentor and also a good friend. I met her when I was fifteen. She was the one who helped me to deal with my talent."

"Did Sage know about the dream?"

"No. I didn't tell her about the dream. I thought it was part of the auras that I was seeing from other people. For years, I'm still trying to figure what is the meaning of my recurring dreams of this man and woman." He paused for a brief moment. "They aren't nightmares. I feel I'm connected to them in a very deep way. They were always smiling, laughing and joking in my dreams. I could feel love. There was a special bond between them."

"But you have never met Joseph and Katherine," Elena said cautiously.

"Yes," Damon agreed. "They died before I was born. I wasn't sure the man and woman in my dreams were Joseph and Katherine until a year ago. But in an odd way they seem vaguely familiar to me. I feel like I kind of know them." He looked at her. "Ever heard about past life memories?"

Elena shivered. "Past life memories?"

Damon nodded. "The sensations grow stronger every day, especially in the last one year. And the name John Gilbert appeared in my dream. That's how I figure out my dreams are about Joseph and Katherine."

Elena frowned. "You think John had something to do with their deaths?"

"It's possible."

"So was Isobel." Elena thought about it. "I think Isobel was in love with Joseph."

"That does explain why Isobel got that funny look in her eyes when I mentioned about Joseph last night."

"Isobel and I spoke briefly in the ladies' room last night. She did mention she was dazzled by Joseph's talent and appearance."

"Did they date in the past?"

Elena shook her head. "No. But I got the feeling that there was something more intimate between them."

"I got the exact same impression."

Elena hesitated. "I still don't understand why you are having recurring dreams of Joseph and Katherine."

Her words rendered Damon momentarily silent. Could he tell her that he could be Joseph Salvatore reincarnated? He couldn't figure out it himself. Was he the lover of Katherine Pierce in another life? Was he the man who had loved Katherine and had hated her, and in the end killed her? Would Elena believe him? He wasn't sure.

"I'm not sure." He lied. "Maybe I'm related to Joseph."

"What are you going to do?"

"I came back to Mystic Falls because of my dreams. It all started here in Mystic Falls," he said. "I'm sure I can find my answer here in Mystic Falls."

x x x

Damon dropped Elena off at the entrance to Mystic Falls Hospital shortly before nine o'clock.

"I have some emails to check but I will be back here to see Megan before noon," he said when she made to slide out of the Camaro.

She stood and looked at him through the open door. Tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. He was dressed in the same black jacket and trousers, white shirt secured with silver-and-onyx cuff links, silver-and-black striped tie. When he moved his hand on the wheel, the white edge of his shirt cuff shifted, revealing the gleaming stainless-steel watch on his left wrist.

He looked good, she thought. Exciting. Powerful and predatory and wholly in control.

"Fine," she said. "See you soon."

She hurried toward the hospital main entrance. Damon waited until she was safely inside the hospital before he drove off in the direction of the Salvatore Boarding House

Damon's words during their love-making drifted through her mind: I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in this world.

But neither of them had brought up the subject of their relationship this morning.

Relationship. The very word made her nervous and fretful. She didn't think that what she and Damon had so far qualified as a relationship, and, as far as she could tell, Damon seemed not to be worrying about the issue at all. In typical male fashion, he appeared blithely unaware of all the soul-wrenching questions that were plaguing her. That annoyed Elena.

How long would Damon want to continue making love to her? And how long would she fool herself into thinking that making love was close enough to the real thing to make the compromise worthwhile?

She went back into her office, closed the door and crossed to the phone to listen to her messages.

There was one message, she noticed. The message was from Aunt Jenna. Aunt Jenna was Miranda Gilbert's sister and she moved to Mystic Falls to look after Elena and Jeremy after their parents died in a car accident ten years ago. But she has moved back to Richmond five years ago.

Might as well get this over with fast. She braced herself and dialled the number of Aunt Jenna's phone in Richmond.

Aunt Jenna answered on the second ring. In typical maternal fashion, she did not take long to come to the point.

"What in the world is going on up there in Mystic Falls?" she asked without preamble.

"Long story."

"Your Uncle John's wife Isobel phoned yesterday. We talked for a very long time. It was not what anyone would call a cheerful, light-hearted conversation. I haven't had a conversation with her like that in years. Isobel said you know Giuseppe Salvatore's son Damon. Is that true?"

"Yes."

Aunt Jenna hesitated and then probed further. "Isobel said that you and Damon Salvatore are seeing each other . . . socially."

Elena laughed softly. "I will bet she said a lot more than that."

Aunt Jenna cleared her throat. "I believe she used the phrase 'sleeping together.' "

"I knew it." Elena flopped down on her chair. "Interesting that she went straight to you with the news, isn't it? I wonder why she did that."

There was another brief pause.

"So it's true?" Aunt Jenna asked, her voice grim.

"Afraid so." Elena hunched around the phone in her hand. "But I prefer the phrase 'seeing each other socially' to 'sleeping together.' "

"If you don't mind my asking, how does Damon describe your, uh, relationship?"

"I haven't actually asked him that question. Not in so many words. Look, Aunt Jenna, I know you mean well, but this conversation is getting a bit personal. I'm perfectly capable of handling my own private life."

"When anything that involves the Salvatore, there is no such thing as a private life," Aunt Jenna said.

"Okay, I'll give you that. But I'm still capable of dealing with things here."

"You are sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. Aunt Jenna, I'm not in high school anymore. Or even college, for that matter. I've been getting by out there in the big bad world all on my own for quite a while now."

"You haven't had to deal with the complications of having a Salvatore in your life."

"You sound like you had dealt with the complications of having a Salvatore in your life."

Another short silence hummed on the line. "This is between you and me. I had dated Zach Salvatore, Giuseppe's cousin brother in the past."

"You did?"

Aunt Jenna was quiet for a moment. Elena could almost hear her thinking about the past.

"Well, I was still in university at that time," Aunt Jenna said eventually. "We dated for a while."

"What went wrong?"

"He is a complete snake," Aunt Jenna hissed. "You can never trust any Salvatore men. They are rich, so they think they could buy any woman they want."

"Oh."

"I don't want to intrude on your personal life, but I am your aunt."

"I know." Elena sighed. "You got to do what an aunt got to do."

"I think you should assume that nothing has changed with Damon."

"What?"

"Do you think he wanted anything more than a casual screw?" Aunt Jenna asked bluntly.

She felt her stomach tighten. "You are trying to tell me that the only thing Damon wants from me is sex?"

"Why do you think he is sleeping with you then?"

I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in this world.

"Aunt Jenna, listen, I really don't think…"

"Elena, I don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

"I know. But I'm a big girl now. Let me handle my relationship, okay?"

"You like him, don't you?" Aunt Jenna asked softly.

Yes, I like him, a lot, she said to herself. "We…are friends," she answered. "He is helping me with a case."

"Friends uh?" Aunt Jenna said. "Definitely more than friends, I can tell."

"Look on the bright side, Aunt Jenna. Your niece knows how to look after herself."

She went through the motions of making herself a cup of coffee while she dealt with the floodtide of restless thoughts that cluttered her brain after she hung up the phone. By the time the coffee was ready, she had managed to regain some perspective.

Get a grip, she told herself as she drank her coffee. What she had said to her aunt was true. She and Damon were seeing each other socially. They hadn't talked about their relationship despite they were sleeping together. He seemed quite satisfied with the prospect of having an affair with her, and that appeared to be his only goal.

They were having an affair.

She was already sleeping with him. So they were having an affair.

So how long would their affair last?

Damon came back here because of his dreams. He wanted to find an answer and then he would leave.

Deep inside, Elena knew that was the part that grated. Damon Salvatore wasn't looking any further ahead after he had found out his answer for his dreams. He was certainly honest enough about that.

x x x

The floor was awash with blood. Damon saw splashes of crimson everywhere. Glancing down, he saw that there was even a spatter of blood on the hem of his shirt. He was surrounded by a scene he had never before experienced, never even been able to imagine, and he found himself incapable of coping with it. It wasn't just the sight of so much blood that held Damon immobilized with shock. It was the feeling that he wasn't in control that frightened him.

"This looks familiar, isn't it?" Megan said.

Damon turned to look at the figure silhouetted in the darkness. There was something wrong. Megan looked as if she stood on the other side of the universe. It was impossible to focus on her.

"Where are we?" Damon asked. He could feel paranormal fire burned in the darkness. Auroras of psi splashed across the atmosphere. He could sense it.

"We both know why we are here," Megan said. "You want to find out the truth."

"This is my dreamscape," Damon said. A simple statement of fact, nothing more or less. It was good to know he was still able to think logically. "We are in my dreamscape. The dream you have been having is linked to my recurring dreams."

"Love and hate is such a fine line," Megan said as she glanced around the floor. "That's her blood. You had her blood on your hands."

"Joseph didn't kill Katherine." He shook his head once and blinked a couple of times, trying to bring Megan into focus. The energy was so strong. It really slammed his senses. The small motion caused the universe to shift around him. The disorientation was so fierce now that he had to clench his fists to stay focus.

"You had her blood on your shirt." Megan pointed a finger to his shirt.

"No, Joseph didn't kill Katherine," Damon said again. He tried to move, but when he took a step he stumbled and went down to his knees. Damn! The energy was too strong for him. He had to concentrate. He tightened his grip and hauled himself upright. He tried to focus, but the crashing waves of the auroras that lit up the surroundings were too distracting.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Megan, where are you?"

"You are fighting. You didn't want to believe," Megan explained. "Don't fight. Accept your fate."

"No, Joseph didn't kill Katherine." Damon concentrated. He pulled harder on his talent. "He loved Katherine. He would never hurt her."

Megan reached out and took his hand in hers. "Let me show you."

A rush of adrenaline went through Damon, producing a few seconds of brilliant clarity. He finally succeeded in getting a focus. For an instant the familiar silhouette of the man he had been dreaming in the past twenty three years were clearly visible in the light from the living room. Damon couldn't see his face because his back was facing him. He held something in his hand but Damon could not make it out.

Somewhere in the night a woman started screaming.

The shock of being so terribly, horribly wrong brought another dose of clarity.

The man moved suddenly, bringing up the object in his hand. It was a knife.

"No!" Damon yelled out. He tried to move forward but he couldn't.

The woman screamed again. Then there was blood splashing everywhere.

"No! Stop!" Damon screamed.

The woman did not scream anymore because she was already dead. But Damon's scream went on forever. He knew he would hear it for the rest of his life.

x x x

Damon was brooding. Elena could feel the vibes. He had been in a strange mood since he came back from the hospital after seeing Megan. She was helping him with dinner in the Salvatore Boarding House. There had been very little conversation. The few words that had been exchanged had been centred on how they might help Megan to sleep better.

Damon was pulling lettuce, peppers and other vegetables from the refrigerator. "Do you want to help cut the vegetables for a salad? I will put in some steaks." He pulled meat from the refrigerator before adding, "The olive oil and vinegar are on the second cupboard on the right." He pulled out a cutting board and handed her a knife from the block.

"Where did you learn to cook?" Elena asked curiously.

"From my mother and books. I spent a lot of time with my mother in the kitchen after I had turned twelve. Kitchen is a place where I can concentrate without being disturbed."

"Most boys would be running around instead of spending time in the kitchen," Elena said as she washed the vegetables and started cutting awkwardly. Cooking was not one of her best skills.

"I wasn't a normal boy."

This was not good. No doubt about it, Damon was sinking deeper into a very strange mood.

"Ouch!" She squeaked as she almost sliced through her finger.

Damon rushed towards her side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She winked at him. "Look, no bleeding." Elena showed him her fingers.

"That's not funny, Elena."

He put the steaks in the broiler and bumped her out of the way. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Twisting the top off, he handed it to her and shooed her away to the island sitting area. "I will cut. You are likely to amputate a digit or two."

Elena frowned as she took a seat and watched his profile as he sliced and diced like a professional. "So, what happened?"

"What?" He glanced toward her as he scraped sliced green peppers into the salad bowl.

"You are quiet tonight."

"I'm trying to cook dinner." He didn't look at her as he started on the tomatoes.

There was a long stretch of silence between them. Elena felt Damon's mood grew darker and heavier. She resisted the urge to break the silence. She was determined that he would be the one to do that. If he wanted to brood, that was his business. It wasn't like she was his wife or even a close friend, she reminded herself. It wasn't her job to cheer him up when he was down or jolly him out of a bad temper. Sure, they had made love a few times, but that didn't mean they were lovers.

Instead of rallying her, that thought lowered her own spirits.

Wonderful. Now she was brooding too.

For a while she thought Damon might not speak at all. She was telling herself that she was getting accustomed to the silence when he finally started talking. The first words out of his mouth startled her that she was the one who was momentarily speechless.

"Have you cooked dinner for your boyfriend?" He put the salad on the table before returning to check on the steaks.

She mumbled something that Damon didn't quite catch.

"What was that?" he asked, wondering why her face was turning beet red.

"I said I can't cook. It is better to have takeaways than to eat the food I cook."

He smirked. "That bad, uh?" He pulled the steaks from the oven and took the sizzling steaks, dropping one on each of the two plates that he had set out.

"What about you?" she asked as she lowered herself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"What about me?"

"Have you cooked dinner for your girlfriends? I bet you have," she said dryly, taking a swig of her beer.

He hesitated. Then shrugged. "Yes."

"Hmm, hmm."

"In the back of my mind, I think I always had this idea that cooking dinner for my girlfriend is how a normal relationship should be." Damon made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "After a while I realized that a normal relationship would never work for me."

Elena opened her mouth and then closed it again. She was so taken back she could not think of an appropriate response. Maybe there wasn't one.

"My relationships never last because I'm not a normal person," he said, his voice seeming to come from a distant place. "I will never be a normal person."

She winced. "Don't say that, Damon."

Damon gave her a laconic look. "Face reality, Elena. I'm not normal." We don't work, he added silently.

She exhaled slowly. "I promised myself I wasn't going to ask what happened between you and Megan inside her dream a while ago, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me."

"No surprise there."

She ignored that. "Look, when you arrived to the hospital you were in a reasonably good mood. You came back in a lousy mood. Obviously something had gone wrong."

"Nothing went wrong."

"Don't give me that baffled, befuddled male stare. I'm not buying it."

He leaned back in his chair. "I thought I was pretty good at doing baffled and befuddled."

"Not funny, Damon. I'm pretty sure something had happened between you and Megan inside her dream."

For a moment she thought he would not answer. Then he looked away. "I'm bad, Elena, I am bad for you," he said softly.

"No, that's not true."

Damon never saw her coming. She flew from her chair, her delicious ass landing in his lap and her arms flung around his neck. His arms tightened around her waist to keep her from sliding as her mouth descended on his.

Damon closed his eyes and moved one hand up to the back of her head, sighing as his fingers sifted through her silky mass of dark hair. She tasted like woman and need, and he responded with an uncontrolled desire that nearly pushed him over the edge. Her tongue teased his between little nibbles on his lips and it made him wanted more, needed more. Putting pressure to the back of her head, he crushed her mouth to his, wanting to plunder and explore every inch of the sweet cavern. The hand on her waist slid to her ass, bringing her almost fully against him, making him groan into her mouth as their tongues duelled and tasted.

He was suddenly a little breathless. His pulse was kicking up again. This new, unfamiliar exhilaration was a good kind of rush. There was certainly risk here, but at the moment he could not find a reason to care about the potential downside.

She was so responsive, so eager, that Damon lost himself to her in that moment, not caring if he was ever found. Elena. Elena. Her name pounded against his brain as he tried to consume her, own her. Feral possessiveness drove him as his marauding tongue swept into her mouth, over and over, sliding sensuously against hers.

She pulled her mouth away, panting as she buried her face in his neck. Damon could feel her hot breath against his ear as she delivered small licks and nips down the side of his neck.

"Take me to bed, Damon. Make love to me," she whispered huskily.

"I can't…" You will be running away if you know I could be Joseph reincarnated, he said to himself.

She tilted her head up and regarded him with love and frustration. "Okay, I will tell you what, Damon. I will just go on kissing you, and you just go on resisting it." It was spoken as a dare. "See how long you can hold out."

"You are a pain in the ass." He cursed beneath his breath. "That still doesn't change anything."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm not a normal person. I'm psychic. My dreams and how I see auras of people dreaming. All these crazy things."

"Does that matter today-this very minute?"

"It sure as hell should."

"It doesn't."

"God, you are crazy."

"Because you drive me crazy."

"Elena, I'm serious," he growled. "Don't do this because of lust or because you want some hot sex with me."

She stilled. "You know that's not true."

"I'm not a normal person. You and I don't work."

"You want to know how I feel? I will tell you how I feel. I don't want us to be short term. As far as I'm concerned, this is not a weekend hook-up."

For an instant he did not move. Then he moved his hands up to cup her face. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Are you absolutely sure it doesn't bother you that I'm psychic and have all these crazy dreams?" he said.

"It's no big deal."

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"I've met crazy. I know crazy. Trust me, you don't qualify as crazy."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

She smiled slowly, deliberately. "I'm a psychiatrist, remember?"

He pulled her into his arms, giving her time to change her mind. But changing her mind was the last thing she planned to do.

When his mouth closed over hers, a sweeping tide of certainty crashed through him, the same kind of certainty that he got when he reached the shores of the surface world after a harrowing journey to the underworld of dreams. This was solid. This was real.


	9. Chapter 9

"You are a screamer."

Elena raised her lashes halfway, aware of the sunlight filtering through the curtains and the heavy weight of Damon's leg as it lay across her bare thigh. "I did scream, didn't I?" she said, half-amused, half-bemused.

Damon raised himself on one elbow and grinned down at her. "Yes. You did. You screamed loud. So loud that you could wake up everyone in the house."

"Don't exaggerate. And don't look so damned pleased with yourself. Under certain circumstances, it could be highly embarrassing."

"It wouldn't ever embarrass me."

"Uh-huh. What if we'd been in a motel room or something?"

"What have you done in the past?"

"About the screaming?" She frowned slightly. "It's never been a problem."

"You don't spend a lot of time in motel rooms?" he asked innocently.

"I have never screamed before," she said quite seriously. She was not altogether certain she liked remembering that unmistakable evidence of sensual surrender. She was accustomed to being in control.

"Better get used to it," Damon advised. His eyes were brilliant with masculine satisfaction and anticipation. "You are going to be doing a lot of screaming in the near future."

"l am?"

He stroked a hand across her breasts and then bent over her. "Yes," he said softly. "You are."

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" His arm tightened around her shoulders as he emitted a huge yawn.

"Tell me what you saw in Megan's dream."

There was a brief silence.

"It's a long story," he said eventually.

"Which is another way of saying you don't want to talk about it."

He tensed. "Don't start, Elena. I'm not in the mood."

His words acted like a dash of icy water on Elena's senses. He still didn't trust her. She sat up, shoved her fingers through her hair and picked up her shirt.

"Okay, I get it. If you will excuse me, I'm going to take a quick shower," she said. "It's been a long night. I'm ready for breakfast."

She pushed herself up out of the bed. But Damon was already on his feet, blocking her path. His jaw was steel-hard and his eyes burned.

"What the hell did I say?" he asked.

She held her ground. Show no weakness.

She gave him a blandly polite smile. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't give me that." Damon wrapped his hands around her shoulders. "I said something just now that sent you straight into deep freeze. What did I say?"

"Sorry." She kept her tone light and polite. "It was nothing. Just a reality check."

He tightened his grip and pulled her closer. "Talk to me, Elena Gilbert. I may be psychic, but I can't read your mind."

"It's alright," she said. "I get the feeling that you like to work alone."

"I can work with Alaric," he said, feeling oddly defensive.

"Sure," she said. "Because he is your best friend. You can trust him."

He breathed deep and exhaled slowly. "I trust you, Elena."

She looked startled. "But you aren't willing to share what you see in Megan's dream."

"It's complicated."

"Megan is my patient. I think I have the right to know what's going on," she said. "If you trust me, talk to me. Maybe we can figure out an answer."

"God, you are persistent, aren't you?" He shifted slightly, searching for a path into the difficult conversation he wanted to have. "There's something you need to know. I suspect Megan's dream is linked to Joseph and Katherine's death."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He took a deep breath. "Megan and I were in my dreamscape yesterday. The dream she has been having is linked to my recurring dreams."

Elena went still. "Really?"

"The man and woman in her dream were Joseph and Katherine."

She felt a distinct chill down her spine. "My God!" She was aghast. "Megan saw Joseph stabbed Katherine."

"No," he growled. "Joseph didn't kill Katherine."

"But Megan saw him stabbing Katherine multiple times," Elena retorted with feeling.

He shook his head. "I don't believe Joseph killed her. He loved her too much."

"Then who killed Katherine?"

"I don't know but I'm determined to find out." He reached for his jeans. "Something still doesn't make sense in Megan's dream. I could feel it."

"I know Joseph Salvatore was your uncle. You feel connected to him in a way. Let's face it. Joseph killed Katherine in a jealous rage and then committed suicide."

"Salvatore men will never hurt their women," Damon said with a sardonic glance over his shoulder. "My gut instinct tells me that there's more to what we know." He picked up a T-shirt and put it on.

Elena frowned at his back. "So what's your next move? You are not a detective."

"I may think about changing career. I sort of like the detecting business. I feel I have a certain flair for it."

"This could be dangerous."

"Don't worry, I will be careful."

"That's supposed to reassure me? Damon, you read auras for a living. You fix bad dreams, remember?"

"If Joseph and Katherine were murdered, I have to find out the killer."

Elena's eyebrows rose thoughtfully. "If you are right, then who killed both of them?"

"There is no doubt the killer had planned it carefully. He killed Katherine first and then Joseph. Afterwards he reconstructed the crime scene to look like suicide."

She tilted her head to one side, considering Damon's words. "We are making some huge assumptions here."

He shrugged. "After what I saw in Megan's dream yesterday, I'm willing to take some very big leaps."

Elena's dark brows met above her shades in a thoughtful frown. "Who would possibly want both Katherine and Joseph dead?"

He pondered for a minute. "Got some names in mind."

"Who?"

"John Gilbert and Isobel Fleming."

x x x

"Why did John or Isobel want Katherine and Joseph dead?" Elena said. The fork in her hand trembled slightly. She clenched her fingers around it and stabbed at the mound of coleslaw on her plate.

Damon took a bite of his fish burger. "You want possibilities? How about jealousy? I'm fairly certain John was in love with Katherine and Isobel was in love with Joseph."

"But Megan saw a man stabbing a woman. So it can't be Isobel."

"You are right. John remains the suspect."

A shiver went through her. "Jealousy can certainly make people do crazy things."

He hesitated and then gave a tiny shrug. "I don't have any hard evidence at this stage. I might be wrong."

She took a breath. "I hope you are wrong. We are talking about murder here, Damon. I don't like John but he is still my uncle."

"I understand. He is family." He took another bite of his fish burger, chewed and swallowed. "I had done some reading and research on this case before I came back here."

"What did you find?"

"My parents were out of town that night when Joseph and Katherine died. Their bodies were found the next day when they came home."

"Did someone see something that night?"

Damon shook his head. "You know how secluded the Salvatore Boarding House is. There was no witness. Nobody heard the gun shot."

She picked up her water glass. "It's a dead end, isn't it?"

"According to the police report, John was in Hollywood and he only came back a few days later after Katherine died."

"If John was in Hollywood, the he couldn't be possibly the killer, could he?"

"He could have arranged this…"

The front door opened before Damon could finish. A draft of air blew into the restaurant. A handful of people garbed mostly in stylish black and carrying a lot of flashy tech gadgetry trooped into the room. Several were checking their phones for messages. The others were talking to each other in fast, urgent tones that ensured that those who overheard understood that these were Very Important People having Very Important Conversations.

"…Back-to-back interviews, no more than five minutes each. We make it clear that Tyler is here for a charity event…"

"…This is all about quality time with his family and friends in Mystic Falls…"

One of the men stood out from the crowd, not because of his sleek black clothes or his dark brown hair but because of the energy in the atmosphere around him. At first glance some people might have been inclined to underestimate him. Damon would never in a million years make that mistake. This guy was in control and had the power, Damon thought. He was probably in his fifties but still appeared charming. He was of medium height with a tough, compact, lean frame and broad shoulders. Tyler Lockwood was among the crowd too and he stood in close conversation with the guy giving instruction.

"Bar's this way, people," the man called out.

He led the crowd into the tavern. His crew followed obediently.

"Who's the guy?" Damon asked.

"Who?" Elena turned to follow his gaze. "Oh. Tyler and his team. There is a charity event at the Mystic Falls High School and Tyler is playing for the school."

"Not Tyler." Damon stared past her toward the bar. "The other guy who is giving instructions."

"That must be Mason Lockwood. He is Tyler's uncle." Elena turned back to her food. "I heard he used to play for NBA previously and was a coach. But he is now Tyler's agent."

Damon's eyebrows rose. "You know a lot about the Lockwood family, don't you?"

"Tyler and I knew each other since first grade."

"Right. I have forgotten you two are close friends," Damon said dryly.

"I told you I haven't seen him for years," she explained. "I didn't expect to see him today."

"Well, I think he follows you here."

"There is absolutely no reason for him to do that."

"I can think of one."

She frowned. "What?"

"I would say that was obvious." Damon took a sip of his espresso. "He is interested in you."

Her brows came together in a sharp frown. "You are making a dumbass assumption again."

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are…"

"Elena." Tyler came to a halt beside the table before Elena could finish her sentence. He leaned down with the clear intent of kissing her lightly in greeting. "What a pleasant surprise."

Elena turned her head slightly, just enough to avoid the kiss. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm playing for Mystic Falls High School in their charity game this weekend. There are interviews, meetings, etc. Luckily Mason is here to deal with all these stuffs. Come, I will introduce you to him." Tyler waved at Mason. "Over here, Mason."

Mason turned and smiled at Mason. Then he walked straight toward the table where Damon sat with Elena.

"Mason." Tyler put a hand on Mason's arm. "I like you to meet Elena, daughter of Grayson and Miranda Gilbert."

Mason's smile was gone. "Katherine."

Elena frowned. Damon went still.

Tyler looked confused. "No, Mason. This is Elena, not Katherine."

Mason stood transfixed. He gazed at Elena as if she were a mermaid who had just appeared at the edge of the bay.

Elena looked at Mason. "Nice to meet you, Mason. I'm Elena," she said politely.

Mason studied Elena. "I'm delighted to meet you, Elena. You…you look like an old friend of mine."

A speculative gleam appeared in Elena's eyes. "Your friend was Katherine. Was her name Katherine Pierce?"

Damon tensed a little beside her.

"Yes, her name was Katherine Pierce," Mason said. His eyes never left hers. "You do remind me of her."

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Tyler said, nudging Mason.

"Tyler!" Mason glared at Tyler. "Forgive my nephew. He is still acting like a child sometimes."

"I'm not a child!" Tyler retorted.

Mason extended his hand to Damon. "Mason Lockwood. I don't believe we have met."

"Damon Salvatore." Damon rose slowly and kept the handshake perfunctory.

"Salvatore?" Mason jerked his hand away. "You are related to Giuseppe Salvatore?"

"He is my father," Damon answered.

Mason looked at Damon with freezing contempt, and turned to Elena. "You really ought to be more selective about your friends, Elena," he said with cool hauteur. "Excuse me. Tyler, let's get back to the bar." Turning his back, Mason walked away, leaving behind him a confused Tyler Lockwood, and a stunned Elena Gilbert. She caught Damon's eye. He looked amused.

Tyler cleared his throat. "I will let you two get back to your meal. Have a nice day."

Then he walked away toward the bar area. Damon did not take his eyes off Mason.

"This is interesting," Damon murmured beneath the hum of background chatter. "Obviously there are some bad blood between Mason Lockwood and the Salvatore family."

"What are you thinking?"

"Mason Lockwood, Katherine and Joseph had a history. No doubt about it."

Damon trusted his instincts and his instincts were right most of the time. Right now his instincts were telling him that Mason Lockwood had a complicated yet intriguing relationship with Katherine Pierce. And Mason didn't like Joseph Salvatore.

But something was wrong.

Mason had mistaken Elena as Katherine.

What was wrong with this picture?

He had wondered if Elena had sensed the same thing he had.

"Mason called me Katherine," Elena said when they walked out of the Grill some time later. "He thinks I look like Katherine."

"You have the same hair colour and eyes like Katherine." He opened the door of the Camaro with a little more force than was necessary. "I have seen her photos."

She slid into the front seat. "Do you think I look like Katherine?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, yes," she answered. "It all started because of Katherine. I would like to know how much I resemble her."

"Sure. I get your point."

He closed the door. With a little more force than was necessary.

"You think I look like Katherine as well?" she asked as he slid into his seat.

He turned and looked at her face.

To his surprise, he experienced a sudden, overwhelming sensation that he couldn't describe. The car seemed to close in around him, curving, elongating, taking on the shape of a dark tunnel.

Someone was in that tunnel with him. He could see the shadow of a woman. He couldn't see her face yet.

Damon froze, desperately trying to understand what was happening to him

Take me out of Mystic Falls, Joseph.

The words echoed in his mind, part command and part plea. He recognised the voice. It was her voice. It was Katherine's voice. Why was he hearing Katherine's voice when the woman in front of him was Elena?

Then, without any warning, the curving walls and the strange sensation disintegrated. Damon was abruptly, violently aware of Elena, who sat perfectly still beside him. The surrounding around Damon looked exactly as it had a moment ago. Nothing had changed, although he was dazed. Something felt terribly, horribly different. In a way he couldn't explain, he sensed that his world would never be quite the same again.

Elena looked worried. "What's the matter, Damon? You look washed out."

Damon shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure you are alright?" Elena asked quietly. Her fingers closed around Damon's hand.

"Of course," Damon mumbled. "Why shouldn't I be alright?" He fired up the engine and reversed out of the parking slot.

He heard Elena's phone chirp. He breathed a small sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption. He had a feeling that once Elena got on a man's case and started asking questions she wouldn't let go easily.

She took the device out of the tiny purse and checked the screen. She inserted the phone back into the small bag.

"It's John," she said.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "What did he want?"

"He invites us for dinner tonight."

Damon glanced at her briefly. "Do you want to go?"

She settled deeper into the seat and looked out of the window. "I don't know. It is kind of weird to have dinner with John and Isobel when we think John is a suspect."

Damon said nothing for a moment.

"Okay. Fine. It's settled."

"What is?"

"Let John know we will have dinner together tonight."

"Are you serious about this?"

"Absolutely."

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. "You are up to something, aren't you?"

"Why do you think I'm up to something?" He gave what he hoped was a very blasé sort of shrug. "I'm here to figure out an answer and I have got to talk to John sooner or later. Might as well be tonight."

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?"

He flexed his hands on the chunky steering wheel. "Why don't you stand back and watch it unfold?"

An old proverb flickered through his mind, something about bringing a long spoon when you dined with the devil. Salvatores had used it to describe the risks of dealing with difficult situations for years.

x x x

Damon wrapped his hands around the porch railing and gazed out over John Gilbert's magnificent garden. A lot of people in Mystic Falls gardened, but none of them could match John's spectacular display of lush ferns, herb borders, and rosebushes. A large greenhouse dominated the far end of the scene. Inside it were more horticultural wonders. A vegetable plot occupied a section near the house. Even in early fall when blooms were fading, John's garden was a work of art.

Damon went down the steps. "You have a beautiful garden, John. It must take a lot of effort to maintain this garden," he said. Conversations between himself and John were not easy throughout the evening. It would be easy to start with a neutral topic.

They had both been on their best behaviour throughout dinner this evening, he reflected. True, things had been a little tense for a few minutes after he walked in the front door with Elea, but to his credit, John had recovered quickly. Damon's theory was that the older man was determined to play the genial host in front of his niece.

Isobel Fleming, on the other hand came as a surprise to Damon. She had proved to be warm, friendly, and charming throughout the evening. It was a complete change in personality. She wore a pair of brown well-cut slacks and a grey-coloured pullover that went well with her olive complexion and dark, veiled eyes. Those eyes, Damon decided, were eyes of a woman who could hold an infinite number of secrets.

"My brother, Grayson loved gardening," John said. "He had shown me how to prepare the ground, water the tomatoes, and trim rosebushes. Life has been busy but I have never lost my interest in gardening."

"I see." Damon watched John pause to remove a dead bloom from a rosebush. "Did Isobel enjoy gardening as well?"

'Not really." John nipped off another dead rose.

Damon went down the steps and came to a halt on the path beside John, who was examining a cluster of ferns.

"You two have been married for a long time," Damon said. "Any kids?"

"Nope." John snapped off another dead flower.

"Why not?"

"I don't have to explain because it has nothing to do with you/" John squinted at him. "What the hell is going on between you and Elena?"

"It's not really any of your business, is it?

"Elena is my niece. I care about her"

Damon shot him a cold glance. "John, don't hand me that kind of line. You and I know that you don't do things like that."

John grunted. "I do care about Elena."

"Are you worried I might hurt her? Or you are worried because you are afraid I would find out more about the deaths of Joseph and Katherine?"

John was startled at his deduction. "No. I have nothing to do with the deaths of Joseph and Katherine. Joseph killed Katherine and then committed suicide."

Damon eyed him warily. "I'm not sure I believe you, John."

"What's that supposed to mean?" John's brows bristled. "Are you trying to accuse me of murder?"

"You fell in love with Katherine but she loved Joseph. You were jealous."

John grunted again. "This is ridiculous."

"I met Mason Lockwood this afternoon."

John stilled. "You did?"

"He had a history with Katherine, hadn't he?"

"Not your business."

"It looks like every man Katherine met fell in love with her."

John didn't deny it. "She was beautiful and special. It wasn't hard to fall for her."

"Did you sleep with Katherine?"

John narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here, Salvatore? What do you want?"

"The truth," Damon said simply. "I'm here to figure out the truth."

"The truth was Joseph killed Katherine in a jealous rage and then committed suicide because of guilt."

Damon shook his head. "I don't believe it. The Salvatore men will never hurt the women they love."

"Bullshit," John retorted. "Joseph used his charm to win Katherine over. God knows the numbers of affairs he had over the years. Katherine was silly to fall for his charm."

"You didn't like Joseph, did you?"

"No, I didn't." John looked at him. "I don't like you either. I'm warning you, Salvatore. Stay away from Elena. If you plan to use her to get to me, I swear I will slit your throat."

"You are afraid, aren't you?" Damon challenged. "You are hiding something."

John took a step back. "I have no idea what are you talking about."

"Where were you that night when Katherine was killed?"

"I was in Hollywood." John's voice went up a few decibels. "I only came back to Mystic Falls a few days later after she died. I'm not a suspect and you don't have any proof that I had anything to do with Katherine's death."

"I used my best judgment."

"Bullshit. You weren't using good judgment. You are accusing me of murder."

"You are right. At this time, I don't have anything solid indicating that you are the killer." Damon's mouth twisted. "But you did have a motive."

"Good grief." John took another step back, stunned all over again. "Because I loved Katherine. Mason Lockwood was also in love with her. He also had a motive to kill them."

"I'm not excluding the possibility that Mason could be the killer."

"This is crazy," John muttered. "This is absolutely crazy. Haven't you got anything better to do?"

"I believe both Katherine and Joseph were murdered."

Damon's comment brought John around. "You've got nothing to prove that."

"I will find the proof."

"None exists."

"Are you sure?"

The door on the back porch opened. Both men spun around so quickly that Damon was sure they looked guilty of something.

Isobel stood in the opening.

"Coffee's ready," she called cheerfully.

Damon did not hesitate. He noticed that John didn't pause either. He figured John was relieved by the timely interruption.

Side by side, they went swiftly back along the path toward the house.

Back in the car Elena glanced at Damon.

"What did John and you talk about in the garden?"

"I was trying to be civil." Damon steered the Camaro in a tight circle and drove down the road that led away from John Gilbert's house. "John has a beautiful garden."

"Don't try to change the topic. You agreed to have dinner with them tonight. You must be up to something."

Damon turned right onto the main road. "I was trying to find out more about Katherine."

"What did John say?" she asked curiously.

"He didn't deny he was in love with her."

"It still didn't mean he killed both Katherine and Joseph."

Damon sank deeper into the leather seat. "You are right. I have nothing to prove that John killed Katherine and Joseph."

There was a short silence.

Elena took a breath. "But you still believe Katherine and Joseph were murdered."

He shot a glance at her briefly. "Do you trust me?"

She studied him for a long moment. She got the impression there was something Damon had seen in his recurring dreams that made him suspicious of the deaths of Katherine and Joseph.

Elena finally came to a decision. "Yes. I trust you."

Damon gave her a fleeing smile. "Thanks."

"Tell me what else have you got relating to Joseph's and Katherine's death."

"I had nothing until now," he said patiently. "There is another name in my mind besides John."

"Mason Lockwood?"

Damon nodded. "It was obvious Mason had a history with Katherine."

She folded her arms. "What do we do?"

Damon's mouth curved in a humourless smile. "First, we find Mason."

"We need to talk to him, don't we?"

x x x

A dark shadow silhouetted against the weak glow of the moonlight that illuminated the window.

Her face. She looked like Katherine.

Katherine! But of course, it couldn't be. Katherine was dead. She was dead for the last thirty-five years.

Still, the resemblance was uncanny. That long dark brown hair, so smooth and silky. And the eyes…Katherine's eyes: almond-shaped, deep brown eyes with thick dark lashes. This girl had those same eyes.

Of all things, the shadow did not want to think about Katherine or feel her presence any longer.

There was another problem as well.

Damon Salvatore.

The shadow cursed. Damon Salvatore was a nuisance. He would be a problem. No doubt about it.

His smouldering eyes and smirk reminded the shadow of Joseph Salvatore.

A strange, unfamiliar anger surfaced out of the depths.

Get rid of them.

Then the torment would end.


	10. Chapter 10

_Make love to me, Joseph._

She turned into his arms, naked and eager, running her hands over him, making him groan with pleasure. He made love to her over and over again until he finally scared her because he couldn't stop… "Damon, stop this, you are scaring me!"

He drove into her deeper and deeper, while she begged him to stop… "Damon, please stop!"

While she told him he was dreaming…" Stop it, you are dreaming!"

And threatened to call the doctor… "If you don't wake up, I'm going to call a doctor!"

He didn't want a doctor, he wanted her. He tried to roll on top of her again, but she held him down, and put her hand on his forehead…. "Please wake up! Damon, you are scaring me."

Damon? Why was she calling him Damon? No, he was Joseph.

And whispered gently in his ear… "Dammit, you are dreaming! You are smiling in your sleep! Now, wake up!"

It was the curse that got through to him. She never swore, therefore something was wrong with his dream. Something was wrong…

He forced his eyes open and gazed at her beautiful face, struggling to reorient himself. She was bending over him, her hands grasping his shoulders, and she looked worried. "Katherine?" he whispered as he locked his fingers fiercely around her wrist.

"I'm Elena."

He blinked, dazed. "What?"

"I said I'm Elena."

"You are Elena." He tightened his hand around her wrist. "Yes, you are Elena."

"Yes, I'm Elena, not Katherine," she said soothingly. "It's okay, Damon, you are awake."

"Damn right."

He used his hold on her wrist to pull her off her feet and down onto the bed. The manoeuvre was conducted with the precision of a judo throw. One instant she was upright, the next she was flat on her back. The shadowy bedroom spun around her.

Before she could reorient herself and come up with a plan for dealing with the situation, Damon was on top of her, one muscled thigh pinning her leg to the quilt. He captured her other wrist, anchored it beside her head, and took her mouth with a ruthlessness that stunned her senses.

The kiss was incendiary, literally. The fiercely exhilarating fire of turbocharged passion burned in the atmosphere. Damon was running hot. He was still fully jacked from his dreamscape. That made for a lot of heat. But it was the return of the breath-taking sensation of intimacy that shocked and thrilled him. Something very strange had happened between them. His intuition warned him that the more time that he and Elena spent together—not just having superheated sex—the more powerful the bond would become—at least on his end.

Damon freed one of her wrists so he could untie the sash of her robe. His palm closed over her breast. He moved his mouth down to her throat.

She slid her hand up under his T-shirt and clawed at his muscled back. He was burning up with a psi-fever.

"Damon," she whispered.

"You are not Katherine," he growled. "Say it. You are not Katherine."

"Not Katherine," she gasped. "I'm Elena."

"That's right. You are Elena. Elena sleeps with me now. Only me."

He yanked opened the top of her nightgown and kissed her breasts with a hungry, desperate reverence. At the touch of his tongue on her sensitive nipples, she cried out. He released her other wrist to unzip his trousers. He fumbled the hem of her nightgown up to her waist. Then his hand was between her thighs.

"Wet and hot," he said against her throat. "That's how I like you."

She reached down and circled him with her fingers. "Hard and hot. That's how I like you."

His laughter was low and dark and wicked. "We were made for each other, Elena Gilbert."

Maybe, she thought, but probably not. This wasn't love. They hadn't had time to fall in love. This was raw passion fuelled by the bond that had been forged in Megan's and Damon's dream experience. She knew she could not trust her emotions tonight, but in the heat of the moment she did not care.

Damon got his pants off and then he was back on top of her, driving into her hard and deep. She pulled him close and wrapped herself fiercely around him.

Her release swept through her in seconds. She heard Damon groan as he followed her over the edge and into the effervescent seas that awaited them.

The first thing she noticed when she awoke a long time later was that she could not move. Damon had her pinned to the bed with one heavy arm wrapped around her midsection and a muscular leg thrown across her thigh. She lay still, partly because she knew that if she tried to move she would awaken Damon and she was not at all certain she wanted to do that. Not yet, at any rate. She had things to think about and she needed to think without distractions.

Now that the chaos of passion had resolved itself, the first thing she ought to do was take a cold, hard look at what had happened between her and Damon. Memories and impressions stirred her senses. Sex with Damon just now had been as disorienting, thrilling, and ultimately disturbing. He had called her Katherine. Was he dreaming about Katherine?

Now she tried to do just that, calling up the little details that she had missed during the passionate encounter. The way his fingers had closed around her thigh. The way his teeth had grazed a nipple. The way his tongue…

"You awake?" Damon asked.

"Yes."

He flopped onto his back and lay still.

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. In the shadows she could not make out his expression, but she was sure his eyes were closed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Define okay," he mumbled.

"Tell me about your dream."

He raised his arm and looked at her with half-closed eyes. "It was just one of those dreams."

She put her hand on his bare chest. "Tell me."

"Can't let it go, can you?"

"Nope."

"Going to throw it in my face again and again, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"You called me Katherine," she said softly. "Did you see her in your dream?"

"Yes," he answered neutrally.

"You were smiling in your dream. What happened?"

"Jealous?" He stroked the curve of her head.

She sat bolt upright. His arm slid down to her hips. Aware that she was nude, she grabbed the sheets and held them to her breasts.

Jealous! Was she jealous because Damon was dreaming about Katherine? She was not his wife or even a close friend, she reminded herself. So why should she be jealous?

She cleared her throat. "I wasn't quite sure what you meant. Things have been a little intense lately. In situations like this, emotions can get overheated."

"And your point is?"

"I'm not jealous because you saw Katherine in your dream," she said. "For heaven's sake, we are practically strangers."

He frowned. "You said you don't want us to be short term. As far as you are concerned, this is not a weekend hook-up."

"That's right," she said quickly. "At least for now."

He moved his warm palm up over her hip, along the curve of her waist, and pulled her down across his chest. One of her legs lodged between his thighs. She felt a familiar pressure and knew that he was getting hard again.

"We sleep together, Elena," he said. "Do you know what that makes us?"

"No," she said.

"It makes us lovers."

She caught her breath. "Lovers?"

"Yes. Lovers."

He slipped his fingertips along the rim of the cleavage that divided her derrière. Without warning, he rolled her onto her back and came down on top of her.

"What do you think you are doing?" she whispered.

He kissed her. It was a thoroughgoing kiss. He did not let up until she sighed and softened against him. By the time he pulled his mouth away from hers, they were both breathing hard.

"Lovers," he said again, making it a statement of fact.

"Okay," she said. She took a deep breath. "Lovers."

He looked satisfied. "Glad we got that cleared up."

"You can tell me about your dream now?"

There was a short silence. Then, with a low, lazy sigh, he rolled to one side. He gathered her against him and kissed her ear.

"It's complicated, Elena. Are you sure you want to hear it tonight?"

"I most certainly do want to hear it tonight," she declared firmly, pulling herself up against the pillows. "I want to know what happened in your dreams."

"You are not going to understand or believe any of this, Elena. You will think I'm crazy. Sometimes I think I'm crazy."

"Try me."

He sighed. "Alright, here it goes. Have you heard of past life memories or reincarnation?"

Elena was silent for a moment. This wasn't what she had expected to hear.

"You mean reincarnation as in rebirth?" she finally asked cautiously. "What has it to do with your dream?"

"I remember my past life." He closed his eyes. "Joseph's life. I'm Joseph reincarnated."

Elena frowned, turning the concept over in her mind. She had never paid much attention to the so-called reincarnation. She had always considered such things a matter of fad. Fads came and went. They might be interesting, but that was no reason to take them seriously. Damon was the last person she would have thought would believe in reincarnation. It was disconcerting to find out that he did _._

"What makes you think are Joseph reincarnated?" she asked cautiously.

"I'm Joseph reincarnated," he rasped, "I know it."

"Please, Damon, don't snap at me. I'm trying to understand."

He muttered something and sighed. "I know. Elena, I don't have any good, easy, simple way of explaining this."

"When did you first begin to think you are Joseph reincarnated?" she probed gently.

"You don't have to treat me as if you think I suffer from delusions. I felt an odd shifting inside my dream since I came back to Mystic Falls. It was no big deal at first. The shifting wasn't painful, but it was curious. It felt like time was bending. Shifting and bending and merging. Somehow I faded, I was displaced…and I changed."

"You changed?"

"I saw Joseph's face for the first time in the past twenty-three years," he said in a dark, hoarse voice. "I'm Joseph. Joseph is me."

"You are not making any sense."

"No, I thought it didn't make sense too. Why am I having recurring dreams of Joseph and Katherine when I haven't met them?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Reincarnation had once been as unreal to her as ghosts, woo-woo for flakes and those who dealt in fiction. But at his point she wasn't going to dismiss anything as impossible. "You are having the recurring dreams because you are Joseph reincarnated."

"The dreams are the past life memories."

"That's why you are so convinced that Joseph didn't kill Katherine," she whispered.

He nodded grimly. "I still couldn't figure out what happened to Katherine and Joseph that night. But my instinct told me that I…Joseph didn't kill Katherine. He loved her."

Elena looked at him but said nothing.

He sighed again. "I know you won't believe me."

He stopped talking, waiting for the other shoe to drop—waiting to find out if Elena was going to buy his explanation. He had told her the truth, he reminded himself. She might not believe him at all and she would probably run away as far as possible from him.

To his surprise, she kissed him and he couldn't help but kiss her back. Even now, he wanted her. He had wanted her from the first moment he had laid eyes on her.

She leaned into Damon, her body clenched and unclenched as she threaded her fingers through his hair and hung on. He touched her breast, gently at first, harder when she reacted almost violently to the caress. Heaven above, he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything else in this life.

"I believe you, Damon," she whispered against his throat, her lips barely kissing his as she spoke. "But please don't see me as a replacement for Katherine."

"No," Damon said, his voice low and rasping. "You are not a replacement."

The wave of relief that swept through her was so strong and intense. Don't get too excited, she warned herself. Damon did want her, she knew that without doubt. Physically, at least. Perhaps he wanted her body. Perhaps all they had ever shared was physical love.

"You are Elena Gilbert," he said as he pulled her close. "You are the one I need now."

Elena sucked in her breath as he sprawled heavily on top of her.

"I want you," Damon rasped. "I want you so damn much, Elena."

"Damon," she cried out softly as his palm closed over her dampening female flesh. She arched against his possessive touch and clutched at his shoulders. "Yes, Damon."

"Stay with me," Damon muttered thickly against her lips. "Don't leave me alone. Not now. Stay with me."

She felt his hardness pushing against the apex of her thighs, and a raw ancient need began to build to a crescendo inside her. She arched against him, her body seeking, craving, entreating.

"Stay with me, Elena," he murmured against her mouth. "Don't leave me alone."

"I won't."

This was everything she wanted. This was real and intense and wonderful.

She was in love with him.

She was in love with Damon Salvatore.

The knowledge came out of nowhere and slammed into her violently.

She loved him. His stubbornness, his arrogance and the way he smirked. She loved everything about him.

He kissed her hard at the same time that he sank into her.

She gripped the muscles in his back, feeling as if her world spun and twirled with each thrust. She gasped his name.

"I'm here, Elena. Stay with me. Right here."

He held her tightly when the world finally exploded in a sharp burst of vivid light and colour, then he thrust into her one last time with a harsh, exultant growl while he found his own pleasure.

After a few moments he shifted his weight from her and would have risen, but she held him tight. For a long time they stayed there in a silence broken only by their shallow breathing.

Finally he rose up on one elbow. "Thank you for believing in me."

She smiled. "You are welcome."

"I just want you to know one thing," he said.

She raised her lashes halfway and yawned. "What?"

"Being Joseph reincarnated doesn't change my feelings for you, Elena." He twined a strand of her hair around his finger. "I still want you as badly as I did the first night I met you at the Grill."

"Is that right?" She looked pleased.

"I'm serious."

She gave him a sweet smile. _I love you_ hovered on her tongue, but she couldn't say it. She knew he wouldn't be ready to hear it, that it would make him feel uncomfortable, or worse, obligated to say words he didn't mean in reply.

So she contented herself with telling him how she felt with her hands and her mouth and her body.

They made love again, this time slowly, gently, without the fierce urgency of before. It was still just as overpowering, and extraordinary.

Damon was alone in his bed when he woke up. Then he saw her standing near the bathroom door.

Elena was bending from the waist, head upside down, towelling her hair dry. She was in bra and panties, nothing else.

"I thought you have gone," he said softly as he sat up on the edge of the bed.

In one fluid motion, she stood up straight and flung her damp hair away from her face. "You are awake."

"So are you."

"I did some thinking while having shower just now." She picked up her blouse and pants. "About what happened to Joseph and Katherine that night."

"I had a few thoughts of my own when I woke up." He got to his feet and paced to the bureau where he kept his shirts. He opened the drawer and pulled out a crew-neck grey T-shirt.

"You woke up with a flash of intuition?" she asked. "Tell me."

"I have been working on the assumption that John was the suspect because Katherine had chosen to be with Joseph. But Katherine preferred to be a star in Hollywood. She didn't like Mystic Falls, by all accounts."

"And your point is?"

"Katherine would eventually leave Joseph." He put on his T-shirt. "John was in Hollywood when Katherine died. He was trying to negotiate a movie contract for her."

"John knew Katherine would eventually leave Mystic Falls." Her expression sharpening. "He knew her relationship with Joseph would end."

"Joseph knew it too."

Elena frowned. "If Joseph knew Katherine would leave, he would be upset or even angry. It could be the reason he killed Katherine, couldn't it?"

Damon shook his head. "No. Joseph didn't kill Katherine. He knew all along that Katherine wasn't contented to stay in Mystic Falls. But someone might not like the idea of Katherine leaving Mystic Falls."

"Mason Lockwood."

"I did a background search on Mason Lockwood." He pulled out a folder from the second drawer. "Mason and Katherine met in Richmond. They even dated for a while before they broke up."

"Why did they break up?"

"Mason moved to New York to play for NBA but Katherine refused to leave Richmond because of her career. But they saw each other again in the Charity Game Day when Mason came back to Mystic Falls to play for Mystic Falls High School." He showed her a newspaper clipping. The picture showed Mason and a beautiful brunette smiling over a trophy.

She glanced at him. "That was Katherine?"

"Hmm, hmm."

"She was stunning," Elena whispered. "No wonder every man falls over her heels."

"You are stunning too, Elena."

She looked up and found Damon standing only inches away from her.

She opened her mouth to speak.

He stopped her with a finger to her lips. "You are incredibly beautiful."

Elena's heart swelled.

"And sexy as hell."

Looping her arms around his neck, she said. "And you are incredibly gorgeous and handsome."

He laughed softly. "I would love to kiss you and make love to you the whole day but we have something important to do."

"What are we going to do?" Elena asked.

"We are going to the Charity Game Day."

x x x

No more waiting.

This was the right moment.

The shadow couldn't wait any longer.

Both Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore had to be rid of.

Elena Gilbert couldn't blame anyone apart from herself. She looked like Katherine.

The bitch had to die but she was not alone.

On her own, Elena Gilbert wouldn't have been a problem. She was nobody. It was hard to see her as a serious threat. One way or another, she could be dealt with.

But Damon Salvatore's presence complicated the situation. He seemed to know a lot more about Joseph and Katherine. If he kept on digging, questions would be asked.

No doubt about it. Damon was a major problem which had to be removed eventually.

Both of them had to disappear from this world.

Then the secret would never be exposed.

The shadow was very good at concealing secrets.

Secrets were meant to be kept. The shadow kept a lot of them. The shadow was good at hiding them.

X x x

The Charity Game Day at Mystic Falls High School had arrived. Fans of Tyler Lockwood were screaming and tempers on the court were flaring. The loud and passionate fans had been waiting in line for hours prior to the game started. The referee threw the perfectly round orange rubber ball in the air for the tip off and the game began. Both teams came out very aggressively. The encouraging cheers from the pumped-up fans were really driving both teams to give it their all

Tyler was at the black painted free throw line with the potential to win the game. He shot the ball and made the first free throw just like he had done many times before. The time came for the second free throw and there was a huge silence in the nervous crowd. He shot the ball and it was in the air for what seemed like a lifetime. It rattled around the orange rim and then went through the white roped net. His fans went wild in the stand.

"Did you see that? Tyler was awesome!"

Damon smirked as he heard what the young blond said. "Tyler's good," he commented quietly. "And not bad on the eyes, either. Tall, dark and gorgeous." He glanced at Elena who was walking beside him. "I can sure see why he makes your heart beat faster."

Elena sent him a swift look. "We are just friends. There is nothing more to it than that."

Damon just grinned. "I know."

She rolled her eyes. "Be serious, Damon. We are here to talk to Mason."

"He is over there." Damon glanced across the arena where Mason was standing.

Mason frowned when he saw Damon and Elena coming toward him.

"Hi Mason. I'm Elena Gilbert. Remember me?" Elena asked politely.

Mason gave her a fleeting smile. "I do remember you, Elena. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm Damon. We met the other day," Damon said. "Can we talk?"

Mason's eyes narrowed, and he divided a suspicious look between them, ending on Damon. "I know who you are. But I'm not interested to talk."

"It's about Katherine," Damon said.

Mason's jaw tightened. "I don't really want to discuss her. Especially with you."

"I'm sorry about Katherine, Mason," Elena said, trying to start a conversation. "Losing a friend is a cruel tragedy. I know how it feels about losing someone you care."

Mason looked her over, his expression doubtful. "I don't believe you knew Katherine."

"No," she admitted.

"Then what's your stake in this?"

"We want to know more about Katherine." Mason seemed about to pose another question when she said, "You two dated for a while before you moved to New York to play for NBA."

He shrugged. "Long distance relationship doesn't always work."

"But you still loved her," Damon interrupted. "You two met again in the Charity Game Day."

"What do you want?" Mason growled. "I want nothing to do with the Salvatore."

"Katherine screwed around with you while she was seeing Joseph." Damon said. "That's why you were pissed."

Mason's mouth compressed. "It was a long time ago."

"Tell me something," Damon said "Did you know Katherine had plans to go to Hollywood?"

"Katherine had always wanted to be a superstar," Mason said.

"But she was planning to leave Mystic Falls," Elena said. "She was going to leave you."

"You were pissed not only because she was toying both Joseph and you," Damon said. "You were pissed because you knew she would dump you again to go to Hollywood."

Mason's face worked. "What are you trying to imply, Salvatore?"

"We don't think Joseph killed Katherine," Elena jumped in. "We believe both of them were murdered."

"Murdered?" Mason looked startled. "You two are out of your mind. Everyone in town knew that Joseph killed Katherine in a jealous rage and then he committed suicide because of guilt."

"No, Joseph didn't kill Katherine," Damon said. "They were both murdered."

"I don't believe that," Mason said. "Who would kill them both?"

Damon just looked at him without saying a word.

Mason looked bewildered. "Hold on a minute. You two come to me asking questions about Katherine. What's going on here? Don't tell me you think I had anything to do with Katherine's and Joseph's deaths."

"Katherine cheated on you.," Damon said, his voice cold and firm. "You were pissed with both of them."

Mason's features clenched into an outraged mask. "That's bullshit."

"Where were you that night when Katherine died?" Damon asked.

"I don't remember."

"Katherine was screwing around with you at that time and you couldn't remember what happened that night when she died?"

"I said I don't remember," Mason hissed. "That was thirty-five years ago."

Elena nudged Damon's arm, her way of saying to let her ask the questions since his, as predicted, seemed to rub Mason the wrong way.

"Mason, we are trying to figure out what happened to Katherine and Joseph that night," Elena said. "You loved Katherine. Don't you want to know who was her killer?"

Mason turned livid. His hands clenched at his sides. "Katherine died because of Joseph Salvatore. I'm telling you now, I don't want to talk about Katherine. She's dead. End of story. Now beat it."

With that, Mason turned and walked away. Damon watched him disappeared into the crowd.

"What are you thinking?" Elena asked.

"Don't think I can remove him from the suspect list at this stage," Damon said. "But we don't have anything solid to prove that he was the killer."

"Maybe I can talk to Tyler to find out more about Mason."

"No."

She glanced at him. "Why not?"

"Because I don't like the idea of you being alone with Tyler Lockwood."

"How many times do I have to explain this to you?" Elena spread her hands. "We are just friends."

"If you say so. I gotta tell you, Dr Gilbert, Tyler won't look at you like that if he isn't interested."

"Like what?"

His jaw tightened. "Like he wanted to carry you away and never let you go."

"You are imaging things," Elena snorted. "Let's get out of here."

"Sounds like a good idea."

He wrapped a hand around her arm and led her through the way back to where he parked his Camaro.

Maybe he caught the small flash of light in the trees on the opposite side of the road. Or maybe it was just dumb luck. Whatever the reason, he reacted before the logical side of his brain could present a laundry list of reasonable explanations.

He wrapped one hand around Elena's upper arm, taking her down onto the ground as he threw himself on top of her. A millisecond later, a bullet slammed into his arm. He winced.

He heard the screams and saw Elena's blank expression of horror and incredulity.

"Damon!"

He glanced down at his arm and saw that the sleeve of his T-shirt was soaked with blood.


	11. Chapter 11

"You are lucky the bullet didn't cause any major damage," Jo said. "You should be back in action in a week or two."

Elena, Jo and Alaric gathered in Damon's hospital room. His bed had been elevated so that he was partially sitting up. A bandage covered his left shoulder; his arm was in a sling.

"How's the arm?" Elena asked first.

"Hurts. But I will live." Damon smiled, his right hand reaching out to hold her hand. "Providing I get enough cosseting and devoted attention, that is."

Elena ignored that. She had other things on her mind. "Damon," she said very seriously, "do you think someone deliberately took a shot at you?"

"Not me." He looked at her. "It's you. You were the target."

Elena went still.

"Gosh," Jo exclaimed, shocked. "You think someone was trying to kill Elena?"

"That possibility crossed my mind, yes."

"Now, why would anyone want to do that?" Alaric asked very softly.

"I don't know," Damon said. "It occurred to me that this may be related to our investigation."

Elena stared at Damon. "You are talking about the deaths of Katherine and Joseph, aren't you?"

Alaric looked at Elena and then back at Damon. "What's going on? What are the two of you up to?"

Damon stared at him for a very long time. "Katherine Pierce was murdered here in Mystic Falls thirty five years ago. Everyone believed that my uncle Joseph Salvatore killed her in a jealous rage and after that committed suicide because of guilt."

"We think both of them were murdered instead," Elena said softly.

Jo lifted startled eyes to hers. "You two are playing private eyes?"

Alaric grunted. "Are you two out of your mind?"

"Joseph didn't kill Katherine. They were both murdered," Damon said grimly. "I came back here to investigate their deaths."

"Wonderful," Jo said. "Now someone wanted to kill Elena."

"Which means the killer who had thought himself in the clear for the past thirty-five years might have reason to worry now because we are asking questions," Damon said.

"Are you sure we are talking about a male?" Alaric asked. "The sheriff couldn't find anything useful so far. There were too many people at the Charity Game Day."

"No. I'm using the masculine pronoun in a generic sense," Damon said dryly.

"So there could be a woman involved in this thing?" Jo asked.

"Oh, yeah," Damon said very softly.

Elena's eyes widened. "I thought you said it was a man who killed Katherine."

"It doesn't mean the killer can't have a helping hand," Damon explained. "There may be more than one person involved."

"Well, shoot and damn." Alaric sounded thoughtful now. "Everyone was so damn sure it was Joseph who killed Katherine."

Jo frowned. "I think both of you should leave this investigation to the sheriff. It's dangerous."

"I'm with Jo," Alaric agreed wearily. "Don't go poking a stick in a hole. There might be a real nasty varmint inside."

"The problem," Damon said deliberately, "is that the varmint has already crawled out of the hole. A murderer who had struck once to keep his secret might be willing to strike again."

Elena snapped her head around in surprise. "Damon, what are you saying? Are you saying the killer will try to kill me again?"

"Not you. Both of us."

"Then you two should know how dangerous the whole thing is going to be if you carry on with the investigation," Alaric concluded tightly.

"I'm not giving up," Damon said.

Alaric's mouth thinned. "This is a really, really dumb idea, Damon."

"Joseph Salvatore was my uncle," Damon said. "He was my family and I intend to do whatever I can to find out the truth."

Alaric contemplated him for a long moment. "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

Damon shook his head. "No."

"You are a stubborn bastard." Alaric rubbed the back of his neck. "At least you can't do anything at the moment because of your injury."

Damon got to his feet. "I'm getting out of here. Get the paperwork sorted out, Elena."

"Damon, your arm is injured. You can't leave yet," Elena protested.

"Didn't you hear what Jo said earlier? The bullet didn't cause any major damage."

"But Damon…"

"Just get me some painkillers."

"But Damon…"

He looked at her. "I'm leaving, Elena," he said quietly.

She threw up her hands and surrendered. Without a word, she stalked out of the room.

No one said a word as they waited for Elena to return. When she came back into the room, Damon had already changed into his shirt and jeans. He silently took her arm and led her outside to the car.

He put her into the passenger seat. His arm hurt but he figured he could drive.

It was raining as they drove away from Mystic Falls Hospital.

x x x

 _"Make love to me, Joseph," she said huskily._

 _"You have to leave him," he said._

 _"Can we talk about this later?" she said breathlessly as she kissed his throat. "I promise we will talk."_

 _"You promise?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _No. She had promised before but she had never kept her promise. She would only find another way to distract him._

"Damon."

He frowned. Why was she calling him Damon?

She prodded him a little. "Damon, wake up."

He opened his eyes slowly. She was propped up on one elbow looking down at him.

"Katherine, darling, what have you done to your hair?" He reached out to touch her hair. "But I like it," he whispered.

"Damon," Elena said softly. Her heart thudded. He was looking at her so strangely. "What's wrong?"

He smiled sleepily, one hand straying under the covers to find her bare thigh. "What's wrong?" he asked darkly. "You know very well what's wrong. You tell me again and again that you love me, but you still won't leave him. I think you only love me when I'm inside you." He stroke her bare thigh. "Is that love? You have ruined me. Half the time I can't think straight. I wasn't like this before I met you, Katherine."

Katherine? Again, Elena's heart thudded hard. "Damon, listen to me. I'm not Katherine. I'm Elena. Remember? Katherine's dead."

His body jerked like he had been shot, and he pulled his hand away from her. Slowly he sat up. "Dead," he whispered. "What have I done?" He looked down at his hands. "This is your blood…her blood, on my hands. Always on my hands. It's my fault. I never should have touched her. I never should have…"

Elena didn't know what to do. She sat upright and cupped his face with her hands. "Damon, listen to me…"

He shook his head. "I never should have touched her…you…."

She drew back her hands and slapped Damon across the face, hoping to bring him to his sense. The sound of her hand smacking against his cheek was loud in the room. His head snapped around, and then immediately he turned on her. His hand reared back, and she prepared herself for the blow that was to come.

But the blow never came. He stopped, almost as if he were frozen, and then the hand fell. "Elena?" he whispered. "What happened?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question."

For a long moment, Damon stared at his hands. "It's my dream. I was in the dreamstate."

Elena's jaw tightened. "You thought I was Katherine."

Damon drew her into his arms. He hugged her close for a long time, turning his face into her neck. 'You are Elena." He pressed a kiss onto her neck. "You are not Katherine."

"Damon, tell me the truth," she said. He raised his head and looked at her quizzically. "Do I look like Katherine?"

He pulled her into his arms again. "You are not Katherine." His lips brushed hers, and when hers separated, he murmured a low groan and kissed her deeply. "You have the same hair colour and eye colour like Katherine," he whispered into her mouth, "but you are Elena."

He kissed her again with unappeasable passion.

"Damon," she sighed when they drew apart, "when you look into my face, who do you see?"

"The woman I need. The woman I care." He kissed her throat. "The woman I want."

"No, I mean…"

"I know what you mean." He eased her back against the pillows and followed her down, cradling her face between his hands and touching her mouth with his. "I see Elena."

His mouth came down on hers dominantly, but so sensually that she moaned against his lips. She opened to him almost immediately, savouring the taste of passion in his embrace. He plundered her like a man possessed, his tongue taking control of her mouth as he swept inside as though he was desperate for a taste of her.

Elena was delicious. Everything about her—the soft feel of her lips, the tease of her tongue against his, her hot, wet mouth—everything was perfection. Damon groaned against her mouth and intensified the kiss until it felt as if they were devouring each other. Elena gave little whimpers underneath him, whimpers of pleasure and need, and they made him hard.

"Get out of that goddamn pyjama top before I tear it off," he whispered huskily against her mouth.

Giggling, Elena sat up, pulled the pyjama off and let it go.

He lifted his hand to her hair and rubbed the strands between his fingertips. He watched his hand's slow progress down her neck and chest to her breast. His thumb made light, deft passes across the nipple until it hardened.

Catching her breath, she sighed, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yes."

They lay down together. He pulled the covers up over them, took her in his arms, drew her close, and kissed her with more tenderness than passion.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he whispered against her lips. "Did I scare you just now?"

"No."

He angled his head back and looked at her suspiciously.

She ducked her head timidly. "Well, only a little. I was more pissed than scared."

His hand curved around her throat; he stroked it with his thumb. "You were pissed because I called you Katherine."

She tilted her head to one side and gazed up at him. "I'm not her replacement, Damon."

"No, you are not a replacement."

She laid her hand along his cheek and drew his head down. They kissed long and avariciously. His hand had found its way to her breast again by the time he ended the kiss. Pushing back the covers, he watched his fingers caress her nipple.

She was making small, yearning sounds even before he lowered his head and closed his lips around her nipple. He sucked on it with masterful skill. His hand moved down to appreciate the curve of her waist, then smoothed over the shape of her hip and thigh. He touched her navel playfully, and lightly scrubbed the area beneath it with his knuckles.

He touched the delta of springy hair, and his eyes turned dark.

"You are Elena," he murmured.

"I'm Elena."

He slid his hand between her thighs. She raised her hips slightly to accommodate him. She was already wet. He slipped his fingers inside her.

"Damon," she gasped with pleasure.

"Shh. Just enjoy."

His thumb idly fanned back and forth across that vulnerable gem of flesh while he planted kiss after fervent kiss on her fertile mouth.

"You are crazy," she panted between kisses.

"You are making me crazy."

"Am I?"

He inched his head down and stroked her belly with his tongue. His thumb continued to finesse her slowly, provocatively, maddeningly, while his fingers slid in and out. Sensations began to bubble warmly within her lower body. The pressure centred on the idle movement of his thumb, so that when he replaced it with the tip of his tongue, she cried out.

She clutched handfuls of his hair and tilted her hips upward toward the heat of his avid mouth, toward the swirling magic of his tongue.

Not until the aftershocks had subsided did she open her eyes. His face was bent low over hers. Damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks and neck. He lifted them away and laid them on the pillow.

He smiled at her. "You are amazing."

Lovingly, she combed her fingers through his hair. "You are amazing too."

"You may have the same hair colour and eye colour like Katherine. But you are nothing like her." He studied her doubtful expression. "You don't seem convinced."

Unable to meet his incisive eyes, she looked at a point beyond his shoulder. "If you are Joseph reincarnated, do you still have feelings for Katherine?"

"I'm Damon, not Joseph." Elena turned her head aside. Damon gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him. "My feelings for you haven't changed even if I may be Joseph reincarnated. You got that?"

"I think…"

"No." He shook his head so emphatically that strands of his dark brown, almost black hair fell over his blue eyes. "Don't just think-know. You are the only woman in my head right now. You are the only woman that's been in my head since I met you. You are the only woman I'm dying to make love to every minute. You are Elena Gilbert and I want you." He imbedded himself firmly inside her. "Understand?" He pushed higher, harder, hotter, and groaned, "Understand?"

He made himself understood.

x x x

 _Something didn't feel right._

 _"Katherine, I'm home."_

 _There was no answer._

 _He fumbled the key into the lock and turned the knob._

 _"Katherine, darling, I'm home," he said as he pushed the door open._

 _There was still no answer._

 _"I'm sorry I'm late. Please don't be angry," he said._

 _There was blood on the floor._

 _"No!"_

 _He saw Katherine lying on the hallway floor, crushed flowers all around her and blood staining her gown and her body. She tried to call out to him, but she couldn't speak._

 _"Katherine?" he asked in an odd voice. He dropped to his knees and touched her bloody gown as if he could not believe what he was seeing. "Oh my God! It's my fault. I should have never left you here alone. Who did this to you?"_

 _He lifted her gently and held her in his warm embrace. For a moment, just a moment, he thought everything was going to be alright, now that he and Katherine were together._

 _"It's my fault. I should have come home earlier. Who did this to you?" he asked. "I'm so sorry….."_

 _A shadow came up behind him. But he didn't realise it. All he cared at the moment was the woman he was holding in his arms._

 _"Who did this to you?" he asked again. "Katherine, who did this to you?"_

 _Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to warn the man she loved. But no words came out, not even when the shadow lifted the gun to Joseph's temple. Joseph was holding her in his arms when the shadow pulled the trigger…_

Damon woke up with a start, the dream or so called vision so startlingly real he could still smell Katherine's blood and the fresh flowers that had been spilled all around her.

Until now, he had seen what had happened only through Joseph's eyes. He had felt the anger and frustration, and that made it easy to believe that Joseph could have killed Katherine in a jealous rage. It was a relief to know that he had not. He knew it. Joseph would not hurt Katherine. The Salvatore men would never hurt the women they loved.

Someone killed Katherine and Joseph.

I was right, he thought. I'm one step closer. Not much longer now. I will find out who you are, you bastard.

He felt Elena stirred beside him. She opened her eyes slowly and yawned.

She smiled up at him. "You are awake," she said. "How's the arm?"

"I didn't kill Katherine," he said without preamble.

Her eyebrows arched slightly.

"Well, Joseph didn't kill Katherine. He found her dying. Someone killed them both."

She sat up slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Someone was inside the house when Joseph came home that night." The cold thrill of the hunt was riding him now. "Someone pulled the trigger."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure someone was inside the house that night," Damon said. "Someone came to the house that night and killed Katherine."

"Then Joseph came home and found Katherine dying." Her expression sharpening. "He was killed as well and the scene was reconstructed to look like a suicide. Is that what you are thinking?"

"Yes." Adrenaline spilled into Damon's bloodstream. "It looked like a perfect plot. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Everyone would believe Joseph killed Katherine in a jealous rage and the committed suicide because of Katherine's affairs." She glanced at him. "In that case, what do we do next?"

"Dream."

"Dream?" she asked.

He turned his head to look at her. "I need to go back to my dream."

She stilled. "What for?"

"To look for the answer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need to go back to my recurring dream to figure out the answer."

"How long would it take?"

"Not long." He reached out and took her hand. "I want you in my dream."

Her mouth dropped. "What?"

"I have a feeling that you can help me find whatever it is I'm searching for in that damn dream."

"Are you serious about this?"

"Walk through my dreams with me, Elena. Help me find what I need to find."

"All right, but I have to warn you, I am not a dream therapist," she said. "I can't guarantee I can help you."

Damon's eyes lightened and his strong fingers clamped fiercely around hers. "Do you trust me?"

She looked at him. "Yes."

"Sweetheart," he breathed just before his mouth found hers.

Elena parted her lips for him, inviting him into her warmth and then there were no more words.

Damon's kiss grew suddenly fierce with a hunger that Elena responded to instantly. She welcomed the fierceness in him, knowing that it would never be used against her, knowing that with this man she was safe. She could trust this man.

Passion flared without any warning, sweeping Elena into the heart of an intense swirling storm. Damon's arms tightened around her. He lay on his back and pulled her with him.

Then his hands locked in her hair.

She felt him lift himself against her, and her hands slid up under his back. She loved the feel of him. She couldn't get enough of it. Her whole body was beginning to sing with the joy only his lovemaking could give her.

She wanted to join with him, become one with him, love him.

His hands glided warmly over her curving buttocks as he continued to kiss her.

She slid down along the length of him, and he began to breathe heavily as she stopped long enough to drop tiny kisses here and there across his broad chest.

Damon's hands tightened again in her hair. Wordlessly he lifted his hips against her, letting her know the full extent of his arousal. She reached for his male hardness, cupping him intimately. And then her hair flowed over his thighs as she worshipped him with her mouth.

Damon groaned, enduring the sweet torture for as long as possible. But in the next moment he was lifting her and pushing her onto her back. He rose, looming over her for a long moment as he studied her nude body. His hand moved along her thigh until he reached the flowing liquid warmth that marked her own desire.

Gently he stroked with his fingers until Elena thought she would fly apart into a thousand pieces. A moment later, when he touched her with his tongue, she knew she was lost.

The world spun around her. Her body was an exotic instrument that only Damon knew how to play. She clutched at him, writhed against him, sobbed out her feminine demands.

And finally he came to her, burying himself deep within her until she was filled with him and he was surrounded by her. The white-hot heat of their mutual passion exploded around them, enveloping them. They clung together, whirling about in an endless universe that knew no beginning and no end.

Elena gave herself completely, bestowing herself as only a woman in love can when she knows she has found the right mate. It was a total capitulation to her own passion and to her lover's. It was the kind of surrender that forever chains the conqueror.

Elena cried out, and Damon drank the sound from her lips.

When it was over, neither spoke. They fell into an exhausted sleep in each other's' arms.

x x x

She walked toward him through the seething fog of dreamlight.

"Where are we?" Elena looked around.

"The driveway of Salvatore Boarding House," he said.

She glanced around. "Ah, yes."

"I have frozen the scene for us so that I can take my time examining events. Things don't look quite the same as they do in the usual version of this dream," he said. "I don't feel the same, either."

"Why is that?"

"That's because this is a lucid version of the dream. I'm aware that I'm dreaming. I can exert some control. Because of that perspective, the experience feels different than it would under normal dream conditions."

"If you say so."

He looked around, getting his own bearings in the dreamscape. The scene was frozen but he knew exactly where he was. The timeline was clear. Joseph Salvatore was not dead yet. He had just arrived. He had stopped his car in the driveway. The house remained dark.

"It was almost midnight when Joseph returned," he said. "The house was dark."

"Katherine was inside the house. She would have turn on the lights."

"Someone turned off the lights."

"The killer," she said. "The killer was waiting inside the house."

Even through the dreamtime atmosphere, he could hear the shiver in her voice.

"Yes, someone was waiting for Joseph inside the house." He glanced around. "Joseph got out of his car and walked to the front door."

"What did he see?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"It was dark. The light on the porch was turned off."

With his senses heightened, he could see Joseph standing in front of the door. When he looked at the door, the door knob remained intact. There were no signs of break in.

"Katherine let the killer into the house," he said. "She knew the killer."

She looked at him. "How do you know?"

"The door knob was not broken. There were no signs of break in. Joseph opened the door with his keys."

"Okay. What else did you see?"

"I'm standing at the front door. The windows were closed."

"No broken windows?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No."

"Alright. Now you are at the front door. Do you catch a glimpse of anything that you think is important?"

"Yes." Excitement rushed through him. "Yes, now I see it. Katherine's car was parked in the driveway. There is something else."

"What is it?"

"It's a bike he said. "There is a motorbike."

"Can you take a closer look?"

The dream sequence shifted fluidly around him. He looked away from the frozen curtain of aurora energy and turned to focus on the shadows that shrouded the dreamscape.

"It's over there behind the pine tree," he said. "I can see part of it. The rest is hidden by the pine tree."

"Hidden?" Elena pounced on the word. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Someone parked the bike behind the tree so that nobody would see it. Joseph didn't notice it when he came home."

"The bike belongs to the killer?"

"Joseph didn't have a bike. Neither did Katherine." Damon came out of the dream on a rush of adrenaline and psi. Elena followed him.

"You feel okay?" he asked gently, taking her hands in his.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"There was a bike that night when Joseph and Katherine died. Someone came to the house before Joseph came home. Katherine was stabbed. When Joseph returned, he found her dying. Then he was shot."

"Make sense." Elena pondered for a minute. "The bike belonged to the killer. And Katherine knew the killer because she allowed him inside the house."

"All we need to do is find out who fits the profile, as the cops say. Someone who owns a bike and who would also want both Katherine and Joseph dead."

"How are you going to do that?" she asked.

"To do that we need to talk to someone who knows this town better than you and I do."

"Got a name in mind?"

Damon's mouth curved in a humourless smile. "As a matter of fact, I do."


	12. Chapter 12

"What? You were shot?" Giuseppe roared into the phone. "You didn't even tell us? We are your parents."

Wincing, Damon held the phone away from his ear.

"It's only an abrasion to the skin." He looked at the bandage on his arm. "There is no major damage."

"I'm your father. I would like to know if my son is being shot."

"Sorry, it's my fault." Damon rolled his eyes. "I don't want you to worry about me."

"And you said someone shot you because you were investigating Joseph's death."

"Joseph was murdered," Damon said. "The killer doesn't like questions being asked about Joseph's death."

"Are you sure Joseph was murdered?" Giuseppe asked. "Everyone in town believed he committed suicide."

"Including you?"

'What's that supposed to mean?" Giuseppe growled.

"Do you believe your brother would kill the love of his life and then commit suicide?"

"Son of a—" Giuseppe broke off, thinking. "No. The Salvatore men will never hurt the women they love."

"Someone killed Katherine and Joseph," Damon said. "Then the crime scene was reconstructed to look like suicide."

There was silence on the other side.

"You seriously think Joseph was murdered," Giuseppe said eventually.

"He was killed. Someone pulled the trigger," Damon explained. "I saw someone pulled the trigger."

"What?" Giuseppe exclaimed, stunned. "What do you mean you saw someone pulled the trigger?"

"I saw it in my dream."

"What?" Giuseppe choked out the word. "Is it one of your silly dreams?"

Damon suppressed a groan. He had been expecting this. His father had never believed in psychic. It wasn't surprise if Giuseppe didn't trust his words.

"Look, Dad, you may not believe my talent," Damon said patiently. "But you have to trust me on this. Joseph didn't kill Katherine. He didn't kill himself. Someone pulled the trigger. Someone killed him."

When he had finished, Giuseppe whistled softly. "You realize what you are saying?"

"Joseph found Katherine dying when he returned home that night. Someone killed him."

"Well, shoot and damn." Giuseppe sounded thoughtful now. "The cops were so damn sure it was a suicide."

"I need a little help."

"From me? Now, see here, just what are you thinking of doing?"

"We are going to try to find out who was the killer," Damon said.

"We?"

"Elena is helping me."

"Elena Gilbert? Grayson's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Damn. How long have you and Elena Gilbert been having an affair?"

Damon's brows bunched and quivered in annoyance. "See here, my private life is none of your business."

"I'm your father."

"Don't start."

"Fine. We will talk again. You mum and I will be catching the next plane to Mystic Falls."

Damon tossed the phone onto his desk and went down stairs. He entered the living room and found her sitting on the sofa watching a documentary show.

When he walked towards the sofa he felt the familiar sense of rightness that always thrilled him when he was in Elena's presence. He had experienced that same thrill the first time they met. Nothing had changed over the few months. Nothing would ever change.

He had fallen hard for Elena the moment he laid eyes on her, but he was pretty sure that he loved her more now than he had at the start, assuming such a thing was even possible. Elena was beautiful and smart. But there was a lot more to Elena than warmth and comfort. There was stimulation, both mental and physical. She made him feel good in ways that no other woman ever had.

In addition, she had no problems with his talent. She acted as if there were nothing unusual about his psychic nature. That made her unique in his considerable experience.

"Watching some boring documentary?" Damon shrugged off his jacket.

"I'm waiting for you." She reached behind her for his hand and kissed the back of it as she pulled him around to join her on the sofa. "How did it go?"

"As usual."

She clicked off the machine and set the transmitter aside. "As usual?"

"You know my parents don't really believe in my auras."

He drew her into his arms, receiving as much comfort as he gave. He hugged her close for a long time, turning his face into her neck.

"But mum and dad are coming to Mystic Falls."

"So they do believe what you said," she said.

"Hopefully." He pressed a kiss onto her neck. "Dad thinks we are having an affair."

"Maybe we are," she said. He raised his head and looked at her. "This thing is getting very complicated."

"What thing?"

She bit her lower lip. "You….me…you know…"

"You mean sharing a bedroom with me on a routine basis makes it complicated?"

She stiffened. "Sharing a bedroom on a routine basis feels more like… like—"

"Like a commitment?" he supplied with an air of amusement.

"Yes," she shot back, goaded. "Like a commitment. Which, I might add, neither of us has made."

"The subject has not arisen."

"That's not the point." She could hear the waspish edge in her own voice.

"Then what's your point?"

She sighed. "Damon, we have only known each other for a very short time."

He pulled her into his arms again. "But I want you. I need you," he whispered into her mouth, "We may not know each other for a long time but I know you intimately, more intimately than I have known any other woman, and that's the God's truth. I know what you feel like inside, and how every part of your body tastes."

He kissed her again with love and unappeasable passion.

She smiled sweetly when they drew apart. "I believe you, Damon. I will always believe you."

"Well, that's something, I guess." Holding her close, he moved his hands over her back. She nuzzled his chest.

He made a low sound of arousal, but set her away from him. "Hungry? What do you want for dinner?"

"Don't push me away, please. I'm not ready to stop hugging."

"Neither am I," he said, stroking her cheek, "but from now on, Miss Gilbert, I'm going to make sure that you retain a high energy level."

"Why is that?"

"Because you will need the energy to expend it in my bed."

"You are incorrigible," she whispered, planting a kiss in one of the dimples beside his mouth.

"And you love it," he answered huskily. "How does spaghetti with homemade sauce sounds for dinner?"

"Love it."

x x x

Two days later Elena lounged on the sofa in the living room of the Salvatore Boarding House and toyed with the little umbrella in her colourful rum-based drink. She was not alone in the living room. Lillian Salvatore was with her. Damon and Giuseppe were in the kitchen, working on dinner.

Giuseppe had proven to be a man straight out of the Old West with a lean and tough build. Lillian Salvatore was a beautiful woman. One glance at her and it had been obvious that Damon took after his mother in terms of looks and physical appearance, as there is a very strong physical resemblance between the two of them. A fine figure of a woman, Elena thought, watching Lillian pour the wine. There was wisdom and warmth and laughter in her eyes. Elena had liked her immediately when Damon introduced Lillian to her.

"It has been a long time since I was back in Mystic Falls." Lillian glanced around the house. "This house is amazing, isn't it?"

"Yes. You have a lovely house," Elena answered politely.

"But this house always bring back some unpleasant memories," Lillian said sadly. She raised her own glass and downed a healthy swallow.

"I heard Giuseppe and you found the bodies of Katherine and Joseph in the hallway," Elena said. "It must be awful."

Lillian nodded. "It was terrible. Giuseppe was so upset about the suicide because he really loves his little brother."

"Joseph didn't commit suicide. He was murdered. Both Katherine and Joseph were murdered."

"You sound so sure about this."

"I believe Damon," Elena said. "Damon saw someone pulled the trigger."

"And you believe what Damon said?" Lillian asked quietly.

"Yes, I do," Elena said. Her tone was firm. "I believe in Damon's talent."

There was a tense silence before Lillian spoke again.

"Looks like that there are something deeper and more lasting involved between you and Damon," Lillian said. "Not everyone understands Damon. I'm very glad that you do, Elena."

"Damon uses his talent to help people. There are a lot of people around who have bad dreams. Damon helps them to fix the bad dreams," Elena said. "He is not a scam artist. And I do respect his choice of career."

She took another sip of her rum-based drink and reached into the bowl for a tortilla chip. She paused with the chip halfway to her mouth when she realized that Lillian was gazing at her, mute.

Elena lowered the chip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have opened my mouth."

"It's fine." Lillian's smile was a bit wobbly. There was a sheen of moisture in her eyes and a slight crack in her voice. "It's just that I found your observations on my son's talent and career very—insightful."

"I didn't mean to upset you, Lillian…"

"Damon is in love with you."

Elena stared at Lillian with wordless disbelief.

"My son is in love with you."

Elena swallowed hard. "It's too soon to know."

"Not for a Salvatore. When a Salvatore got his heart set on something," Lillian warned with gruff gentleness, "it isn't easy persuading him to change course."

Elena was quiet for a time.

"Do you really think Damon is in love with me?" Elena asked eventually.

"You must know how much Damon cares about you. I can tell it from the way he looks at you."

She flushed. "I really don't think this is the time or place to talk about that sort of thing."

"Can't think of a better time or place. It's a simple question. Are you going to break my son's heart?"

"Lillian, for heaven's sake…"

"If you do intend to break his heart, it ought to at least be for the right reason—not the wrong one."

Elena realized she was starting to get mad. "Assuming I do have that power—which I very much doubt—what would constitute the wrong reason for breaking Damon's heart?"

"Doing it because you think it's for his own good," Lillian said. "Worst damn reason in the world."

She froze. "But, if he doesn't know his own mind—"

"No such thing as a Salvatore who doesn't know his own mind. Now, if you will excuse me, I'd better see how dinner is coming along."

x x x

While the pasta was boiling, Damon tossed together a salad and spread thick slices of French bread with garlic butter and popped them into the oven.

"You are pretty good in the kitchen," Giuseppe said as he opened a bottle of red wine that Damon had put in the refrigerator earlier to chill.

"Maybe I just spend a lot of time fooling around in the kitchen," Damon replied. "Man got to have a hobby."

"That's true, son," Giuseppe said. ""A man your age oughtta be married. Hell, I was married at your age."

Damon's jaw tightened but he did not speak.

"Lillian likes your Elena," Giuseppe said after a while. "So do I."

Damon focussed on the pasta. "I like her, too. A lot. But she's not my Elena."

"Lord above, son, don't play dumb with me. You two are sleeping together."

"Yes, we are sleeping together but she is not mine." Not yet, he added silently.

"Well, son, you will do right by her, won't you?"

"What the heck does that mean?"

"There isn't any such thing as a dumb Salvatore, and we both know it. I'm talking about marriage, naturally."

"Marriage!" Damon's brows shot up. "Elena and me?"

"Well, sure. What did you think I was talking about?"

Damon winced. "I don't think Elena is ready for marriage."

"It might take a little push from me," Giuseppe allowed reflectively. "Or maybe from your mother. She is good in that sort of thing."

"Force won't work well with Elena," Damon said dryly.

"I'm thinking more in terms of applying a little pressure in the right spots."

"Dad, I'm sure you mean well, but the very last thing I want to do is marry a woman who doesn't want to get married. Are we clear on that?"

"You don't have to sound so pessimistic, son."

"Just let me deal with my own business, okay?" Damon took out the bread from the oven. "In fact, I need your help for other matters."

"Are you talking about Joseph's death?"

Damon nodded. "You know anyone driving a motorcycle back in Mystic Falls at that time?"

"We are talking thirty-five years ago, aren't we?" Giuseppe said thoughtfully.

Damon watched him. "You have been connected to this town for more than fifty years. Any names come to mind?"

"At least half a dozen names come to mind," Giuseppe said without missing a beat. "If that's all you've got, you will be at this investigation for a very long time."

"You are kidding," Damon said.

"Driving a motorcycle in the 1980s was popular among young men," Giuseppe answered. "It is still popular nowadays."

"Damn."

"But there is one thing you need to keep in mind."

"What's that?" Damon asked.

"How many people Joseph or Katherine knew at that time had a bike?"

Damon looked at him. "That's right. This will narrow the list a bit. Any names come to mind?"

Giuseppe angled his chin. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully.

Damon waited.

"There are a few names that come to mind," Giuseppe said slowly, "Definitely two."

Damon could feel himself getting revved up. "Who are they?"

"John Gilbert and Mason Lockwood."

Damon groaned. "Well, shoot and damn."

x x x

"John and Mason? One of them killed Katherine and Joseph?" Lillian sank back into the depths of the sofa. "There's an image I could have done without."

Damon paced back across the living room. "But it makes sense. Both men have such a complicated relationship with Katherine."

"Katherine got involved with more than one man." Lillian made a face. "She was not very popular with the ladies of Mystic Falls, I can tell you that."

"I have never liked her," Giuseppe growled. "I told Joseph she was wrong for him. But he just wouldn't listen."

Damon continued his pacing. "Mason wasn't pleasant when he found out I'm related to Joseph. Obviously there was bad blood between the two."

"So was John Gilbert," Giuseppe said. "Joseph had a few confrontations with him."

Elena hesitated. "But John was in Hollywood when Katherine died. He has an ironclad alibi for that night."

A thought struck Damon. "You never can tell. Maybe he ducked back to kill Katherine and Joseph before going back to Hollywood."

"Damon is right," Giuseppe said. "John could create an alibi for himself that night."

"What about Mason Lockwood?" Lillian asked. "He is also one of the suspects."

"According to the information we gather, there was a celebration party at the Lockwood mansion that night. Mason had quite a few alibis for that night."

Damon came to a halt. "Maybe Mason ducked out long enough to murder Katherine. In a crowd of that size, he might not have been missed for a while."

"But Mason is the one person who could not have disappeared from the party without being missed that night," Elena said. "Mason was the star for the party."

"He could still find a way to sneak out of the party," Giuseppe said. "Mason certainly has the motive to kill both Katherine and Joseph."

Lillian straightened in the sofa. "What do we do next? Shall we talk to the cops?"

"No," Damon said. "The cops will not listen. We do not have hard evidence."

Elena looked at Damon. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

Damon nodded. "We talk to the Lockwood about the party that night and see whether we can find anything suspicious."

"Let's just hope Mason will stay in Mystic Falls long enough for us to investigate," Lillian said

"Thank you for being so optimistic, mum," Damon growled.

"Well, to be honest, I keep wondering what we can do even if we do come up with a really terrific scenario for the murder of Katherine and Joseph," Lillian said. "It's not like we can hope to find any proof after all this time. Say that we are successful. What are our options?"

"I agree with Lillian," Giuseppe said. "It was thirty-five years ago."

Damon hesitated. It was Elena who sat forward, determined and eager.

"We are talking about murder here," Elena said. "We can't let the killer run away anymore. Although I don't like John, he is still a family. If he has committed a crime, he has to face the charge. Same for Mason Lockwood."

"Elena is right," Damon said. "Joseph was murdered and accused of committing a crime he didn't commit. I want to know what really happened. I will know what happened."

Both Lillian and Giuseppe looked at them in turn. The same ice-cold intent glittered in both pairs of eyes. Giuseppe shook his head. "And you two wonder why you two are so attracted to each other."

Elena felt heat in her cheeks and she quickly looked away. "It's almost midnight," she said as she got to her feet. "I should probably get back home."

Damon stood up. "You can't stay alone in your folks' house any longer."

"Why?" Elena asked.

"Someone tried to kill you, Elena. I don't think we should take any chances," Damon said. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"But…"

"The way I see it, we have got two options. You can move in with me here or else I can pack a bag and settle in at your place. Take your pick. Either one is fine by me, Elena."

Damon wasn't going to back off.

Giuseppe got to his feet as well. "There are a lot of bedrooms here. Lillian and I have no problem with you staying with us, Elena."

"Giuseppe is right," Lillian said. "We love having you here, Elena."

"Okay," she said, trying to sound very cool. "I will go back to the house and pack my things."

"I will drive you home," Damon said.

An hour later they were back at the Salvatore Boarding House. The house was silent. Both Lillian and Giuseppe had retired for the night. Damon wasn't pleased when Elena announced that she would take one of the guestrooms but he didn't argue.

"Good night, Damon," she said shakily. Stepping around him, she tossed a fixed smile over her shoulder, and left him standing in his doorway. She opened the door and walked into the guestroom.

Behind her, Damon spoke in a flat, calm voice. "Elena?"

She turned and saw him still standing in the doorway of his room, his shoulder propped against the door frame, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. "Yes?"

"Do you know what my least favourite thing is?"

His implacable tone told her the question wasn't casual, and she shook her head, wary at whatever he was getting at. He didn't keep her in doubt. "It's sleeping alone when there's someone down the hall who I know damned well should be sleeping with me."

"People will talk," she said. It was weak. She knew it was weak even before she saw his brows lift.

"People are already talking," he said dryly. "What's the big deal? I don't really care."

"Well, I do care," Elena retorted. She felt her temper rising. "You mother was asking me about our relationship this evening."

"Well, for your information, dad was asking me about our relationship as well."

"What did you say?"

"He said he thought we made a wonderful couple. Said we probably should get married."

"Get married?" Elena's voice rose to a shrill squeak. "Where did he get this idea from?"

Damon winced. Did she have to sound so positively negative about the idea?

"Since we are sleeping together, he sort of assumes that we have discussed marriage."

Elena shook her head. "No. You and I have never discussed marriage."

From out of nowhere a lightning bolt of anger sizzled through Damon. He straightened. "Strictly speaking, that's not true."

Elena's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm just saying that subject has come up between us."

"The hell it has," she shouted.

"I will agree that we haven't come to any definitive conclusions yet, but you can't say that we haven't talked about it."

"Don't you dare get cute on me here, Damon Salvatore." She took a step toward him. "You have never once asked me to marry you."

"You know my talent doesn't make for stable, long-term relationships."

"Don't give me that stupid excuse about your talent. You have never tried hard enough in your relationships because you are afraid to commit."

"Okay." He felt his stomach clench. "I'm asking."

Elena caught her breath. For a second or two he didn't think he would get an answer.

She pulled herself together with a visible effort. Damon saw the gathering dismay and anger in her eyes.

"That was not a real proposal." There was a strange edge to her voice now. "That was a joke. At my expense. I don't appreciate it, Damon."

"No joke," he said softly. "The proposal was real to me." He held her complete attention. "Do I get an answer?"

She stared at him, her face frozen.

"Do I get an answer?" he asked again.

She swallowed hard. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Ask me to marry you in this dumb, tacky way."

His jaw's tightened. "You think this is a dump, tacky way?"

"Yes, it is."

He shoved his fingers through his hair. "For heaven's sake, Elena! What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know!" she yelled back.

Damon exhaled slowly. "During the past few days I thought maybe we were getting closer. Making progress."

Elena was annoyed. "Having sex, you mean."

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Me? I'm being difficult?" She scowled. "You know what? Your marriage proposal is definitely the worst proposal on this planet earth."

She walked into the guestroom and closed the door behind her.

She leaned against the door. "So much for declaring undying love and devotion." But she said it very softly so that he would not hear her because it was entirely possible that he did not have either to declare.


	13. Chapter 13

"Did you sleep well, Elena?" Lillian asked the next morning as she stood at the kitchen counter, buttering toast.

"Not bad," Elena said, trying desperately not to look as if she had spent the night tossing and turning thinking about Damon's proposal. "Can I do anything to help with breakfast?"

"Not a thing. The coffee is ready if you want to pour yourself a mug."

"Thanks." She whirled around and seized the pot. "Where's Giuseppe?"

"He has gone out to the garden." Lillian glanced up at the kitchen clock. "Damon should be awake by now."

"Hmm." Elena took a seat at the table and sipped her coffee.

Lillian smiled at her. "My son is a bear in the morning. But I bet you must have found out by now."

"Hmm."

For a moment, Lillian watched her. "What's wrong? You two lovebirds quarrelling already?"

Damon materialised in the kitchen doorway before Elena could open her mouth. "Well? What's for breakfast?"

"Omelette and toasts," Lillian answered.

"Smells delicious." Damon sank into the chair opposite Elena and tossed a casual good morning to her.

"What's so good about it?" Elena grumbled softly as she helped herself to a single slice of toast. While she swallowed bits of the toast that suddenly tasted like dry sponges, she stole glances at Damon. He concentrated on his omelette with much more intensity than simple eating required. How could he react as if nothing had happened last night? She was really annoyed.

Giuseppe appeared in the doorway. "Right on time." He smiled at Lillian. "Smells delicious."

The four of them ate their breakfast in silence. Elena nibbled on her toast, and Damon cleaned his plate with the healthy appetite of a man used to his mother cooking. He was halfway through his omelette when Giuseppe broached the subject that had kept him awake long enough after dinner last night.

"I have been thinking about what you said about Joseph's death," Giuseppe said.

Damon glanced up at him. "Yes?"

"You are right. Joseph wouldn't kill Katherine. He loved her too much."

Damon raised his mug and took a triumphant swig. Elena sensed the anticipation that leaped through him, the sudden tensing of his body.

"But I still don't think you should carry on the investigation. You should talk to the sheriff," Giuseppe said. "Let the sheriff deals with the case."

"The sheriff won't believe us." Damon's mug hit the table with a thunk. "We don't have any solid evidence at this stage."

"Listen to your father, Damon," Lillian added. "It's too dangerous. You are not a detective."

"We have two suspects now, remember?" Damon said. "We are so close now. I can't give up."

"Remember innocent until proven guilty? Until we have solid evidence that it's either John Gilbert or Mason Lockwood, you can't assume anything," Giuseppe said.

"Okay, suspect. I will find out more then," Damon replied stubbornly.

"Forget it, Damon. Let's just let the sheriff do the job. When they find out anything, they will fill us in," Giuseppe said.

Damon's jaw tightened. "I'm not going to give up on this case."

Giuseppe's mouth thinned. "Damon, you are gonna have to stop fooling around with this case and pay attention to what's important."

That did it.

Damon felt his Salvatore temper flash through him with all the stunning heat of summer lightning. It crackled and flared, surging forth from the windowless vault where he kept it locked and chained in the name of establishing total control.

He got to his feet and stared at Giuseppe.

"Fooling around with this case? Is that what you call what I have been doing in the last few weeks? Fooling around with Joseph's death?

Giuseppe blinked. Then the lines at the corners of his eyes creased in wary concern. "Simmer down, son."

"Now, see here, Damon, this isn't what—" Lillian tried to ease the tension between the two men.

"Fooling around with Joseph's death? He was your brother, for goodness sake!" Damon almost shouted. "Don't you care who actually killed your brother?"

"Don't talk to me like this, Damon. I'm your father. Show some respect."

Damon flexed his hands at his sides "Someone killed your brother and accused him of murder. How can you pretend nothing had happened?"

"Damon, listen to your father," Lillian pleaded. "Please."

A muscle worked on the side of Damon's jaw. "I'm not giving up. I will find out the truth."

With that he turned away from the table and walked out of the kitchen. Then they heard the front door open and close.

Elena watched through the doorway for a while, unsure of her next move. She was still struggling to categorize her relationship with Damon. But she knew she couldn't walk away from him now.

She made up her mind.

"I will be right back," she said.

She turned around, crossed the kitchen, and opened the front door. Closing it quietly, she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill of the morning air and made her way to the front porch.

Damon stood near his blue Camaro. He did not turn around.

She stopped about a yard away from him.

"You know your parents are worried about your safety. They are scared that if you carry on with this investigation you might end up in danger. You know that, right?" she asked.

For a time, she wasn't sure that he would answer. She told herself that she probably should have stayed inside and let him deal with his own demons in his own way. But they had shared too much. There was a bond of some kind between them. She could not leave him to battle on alone, not at the moment. So she waited, aware that she was trying to coerce an answer out of him with the unsubtle tactic of silence.

"I know they are worried about my safety. But I can't give up now," Damon said. "We are so close."

"I understand."

"You do?"

She nodded. "I do."

He moved abruptly, crossed the small distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry that I dragged you into this case. I'm sorry."

"Just remember that you are not alone in this."

She hugged him very close and very tight. After a while some of the anger seeped out of him.

"Elena," he said. His gaze fixed on her lips, and he bent his head, kissing her with deliberate, lazy sensuality until Elena was responding, then he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his own, his tongue probing. And Elena forgot they were standing in plain sight of the house in broad daylight. She curved her hand around his nape, holding him close, and fed his hunger with her own, welcoming the deliberately suggestive rhythm of his tongue. By the time he finally lifted his head, they were both breathing fast and hard and his aroused body had left an invisible imprint on hers.

Damon drew a long breath and tipped his head back, sensing instinctively that now was an ideal moment to tell her how he felt about their relationship. He debated about how to do it and, because he was so damned afraid she would refuse, he decided to tip the scales in his favour with a form of coercion. "I think the time has come for our talk," he stated as he straightened and looked at her. "I'm sorry about last night. At any rate, last night when you told me that the subject of marriage had never even come up between us, I guess I got a little irritated. Hell, I lost my temper." He paused. "And whatever common sense I've got."

Elena swallowed. "What are you trying to imply?"

"I want you, Elena, but it's no good unless you want me."

Hope soared within her. Grimly she tamped it down, forcing herself to keep things in perspective. "But you think I don't want you?"

"I love you, Elena Gilbert. I want to stay here in Mystic Falls with you. I want to build a future here with you because you are my life. I want you to marry me." Having made that pronouncement, Damon waited.

She couldn't keep the lid on the tide of hope any longer. It surged through her. "You want me to marry you?"

"Yes. I want you to be my wife and the mother of my children."

"Oh, Damon." The brilliant colours of happiness splashed through her, effervescent and glorious. She went into his arms. "I love you so much."

Damon hugged her close. "So what do you say? Marry me?"

"In that case, my answer is yes!"

He kissed her.

In the living room, Lillian stood at the window and watched Damon kiss Elena. "Giuseppe," she said, tossing an awed, beaming grin over her shoulder at her husband, "Damon is falling in love! Your son is in love."

"God help him if he is."

She turned in surprise. "Don't you like Elena?"

"I do like Elena. But…"

"But what?"

"Damn if I know." Giuseppe rubbed the back of his neck. "Just an uneasy feeling about this whole thing."

"Are you talking about Joseph's death?"

"That's one problem."

Lillian was alarmed. "There is another problem?"

"Damon's relationships never last, remember?"

"Well, his previous girlfriends can't accept his so-called talent. But Elena seems to be okay with it."

"We both know Damon is disturbed by his so-called talent for years." Giuseppe rocked on his booted heels. "I can't deny the fact that he's looking a hell of a lot better now than he did before he came to Mystic Falls."

Lillian remembered the days when her eldest son was troubled by his dreams and how afraid she was that she might lose him.

"Yes," she said. "He's fine now. Thanks to Elena."

"There's something familiar about her, Lillian."

"She is the daughter of Grayson and Miranda."

"No, I mean something really familiar."

"Like what?"

"The brown hair and the eyes. Take a good look, Lillian. She reminds you of anyone?"

Lillian studied Elena for a long time.

"Oh dear," she said at last. "She certainly reminds me of…"

"Katherine."

"Funny, I never noticed before."

"I'm afraid that history is repeating itself."

Lillian's face fell, then she shook her head. "She is in love with Damon. I could tell she is."

"I certainly hope so."

"Elena isn't like Katherine. She won't hurt Damon."

Giuseppe reached out and tipped her chin up. "Some people feel love in their hearts, Lillian. Some of us feel it all the way into our souls. We are the ones who can't forget." He took his hand away and glanced out the window, and his face took on a harsh look. "For Damon's sake, I hope to God he isn't like that. Because Joseph was like that and how did it end?"

Lillian looked at him but said nothing.

"Have you noticed something about our son, Lillian? Giuseppe asked eventually.

"What?"

"His looks, his profile. The way he holds himself. He is like…"

Lillian's mouth dropped. "Joseph."

"You notice that too," Giuseppe said softly.

"You are scaring me, Giuseppe. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Beats me," Giuseppe said. "That's why I'm afraid that history is repeating itself."

"What are we going to do?" Lillian sounded worried.

"Sometimes there are things that can't be explained. Damon's so-called talent is probably one of them." He paused. "Ever heard about reincarnation?"

"Reincarnation?" Lillian exclaimed, stunned.

"You know what people say about forever love? The concept of coming into each life destined to find the right person again and again, moving through the ages with that destined love guiding us, is definitely romantic."

Lillian's eyes widened. "Are you telling me that you believe Damon and Elena are reincarnation of Joseph and Katherine?

Giuseppe shook his head. "I don't know."

"Oh, my God! This is unbelievable."

"You know what? Forever can be a very long time."

"What do you mean?"

"Finding the right person again and again sounds very romantic but…"

"But what?"

"But what happens if the wrong person comes back for you again and again? What if it is possible to stalk someone through one life after another? Even death wouldn't bring an end to the obsession."

Lillian was aghast. "Oh, my God! What are we going to do?"

"Let's hope history is not repeating itself," Giuseppe said very quietly.

x x x

"We are here," Damon announced.

The blue Camaro ground its way along the rutted, unpaved road until it reached the edge of the lake. Damon halted the dusty vehicle near a cluster of tall, swaying pines, switched off the engine, and sat for a moment behind the wheel. Then he opened the door and climbed out.

Elena followed. She walked slowly to the water's edge and stood gazing thoughtfully out over the expanse of the Dunham lake. Ripples on the blue-green surface in front of her shimmered in the waning sun of a late afternoon.

The lake was ringed with a thick fringe of pine and fir. Most of what constituted Dunham Lake was on the opposite shore, a cheerful jumble of small shops, old gas stations, and aging houses. Here and there around the perimeter of the lake Elena could see cabins hidden in the dark shelter of the trees.

The whole place had a subtle air of being undiscovered and picturesque, she decided.

"It's beautiful," Elena said softly.

Damon smiled at her. "I'm glad you like it. Come, let's go."

"Where are we going?" Elena asked.

"Wait and see."

They walked up the path to a small cabin in the trees.

Damon smiled secretively as he fished a key out of his jeans pocket. "Come on. It's all right. The owner is a personal friend of mine."

"Your friend? Alaric?"

"If you don't stop asking questions, you will spoil the surprise. "

"What surprise?"

"That's another question."

He pushed open the front door and ushered Elena into the wide vestibule.

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?"

Damon grinned. "No."

Elena punched him lightly on his arm. He laughed softly and took her hand. "Just be patient."

He led her to the narrow hallway. The doors to all the rooms stood open, except one at the end of the hall. It was to that door that Damon led her. He looked at her expectantly before turning the porcelain knob and swinging the door open.

Elena crossed the threshold and stepped into the room.

There was one piece of furniture in the room-a brass bed. In the Victorian style, the tall headboard was elaborate with swirls and curls. Pillows in fresh white linens were piled against it. There were fresh sheets and a comforter covering the mattress. Mosquito netting had been suspended from the ceiling to drape the bed.

Dumbfounded, Elena stood gazing at it all while Damon moved to the marble fireplace and lit the candles that had been arranged on the hearth. Then he went around the room lighting dozens of other candles, until the pale moiré walls shimmered in the soft light and the brass bed beneath the gauze gleamed incandescently. When the last candle had been lit, he blew out the match and tossed it into the fireplace, then turned to face Elena. He looked sheepish and apprehensive.

"Well, what do you think?"

She raised her hands at her sides and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I know my proposal that night really sucked," he said. "You are right. It was the worst marriage proposal in this planet earth."

He directed an uneasy glance toward the bed. "It might seem presumptuous, I know. But I think you will like this place. So I thought that if you ever…that if we…Hell." He ran his hand around the back of his neck and shoved the other one into the waistband of his jeans.

"Look, I thought you needed, deserved, to be romanced…" He muttered a string of curses. "I sound like a jerk, right? Well, I feel like a goddamn fool. The thing is I don't do romantic thing for any woman." He blew out a breath of pure disgust. "This probably wasn't a good idea after all. You can back out if you want to."

Mutely Elena shook her head.

"I won't he mad, I swear," he said. "Say you think this is crazy, and we will call it quits."

She approached him. "I don't think this is crazy."

Candlelight was reflected in his intense stare. "Are you serious?"

She averted her gaze to the bed. "The room is lovely. Really. It was a thoughtful-and romantic gesture."

"You like it?"

"Very much."

He reached out to hold her hand. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it. "I'm not very good in the so-called romantic gesture. You are the first woman that I have done such thing for," he said with a half-smile. "I'm glad you like it."

"Yes, I like it. Thank you."

He held it against his lips as he spoke, his breath leaving moist patches on her skin. He turned it slightly and, as he opened her fingers, sank his teeth into the plump base of her thumb.

Closing his eyes, he kissed the centre of her palm, burying his mouth in the heart of it. His lips were warm and earnest, his tongue playful and erotic. He guided her index finger up to his upper lip.

Lightly, he scraped his teeth against her index finger. It tickled-on her finger and in her lower belly. He took turns with each of her fingers, nibbling the flesh, stroking the skin with his tongue.

Elena derived almost as much pleasure watching him as she did from feeling what he was doing. Candlelight picked up the lighter strands of his hair. Dark, stubby eyelashes lay against his cheekbones, which were faintly traced with squint lines. His mouth looked unmitigatedly sexy. Looking at it made her tummy feel like a cat, stretching with animalistic pleasure after a long sleep.

He kissed the inside of her wrist, then worked his way up to the bend of her elbow. She felt the damp sweep of his tongue and the slick surface of his teeth as he drew her skin against them.

"Damon," she whispered huskily.

His head came up. "I love you, Elena. I have since I first met you at the Grill."

"I fell in love with you that night, too," she said.

He raised her arms and laid them on his shoulders. Clasping her loosely around the waist, he drew her closer, until their bodies made contact.

"Please remember you are the woman I love, the woman I need," he reminded her in a rough whisper. Pressing his forehead against hers, he continued in the same, urgent tone. "You are never a replacement. I don't care whether I'm Joseph reincarnated or not. I only know I love you, Elena Gilbert."

She nodded. "I know," she whispered.

"Then marry me." He angled his head back and looked down at her. "Marry me, Elena. Today. Now."

"Yes."

His lips came down on hers with a captivating insistence. The taste and touch of him was unique, intoxicating, as they had always been. Elena's right arm moved to encircle Damon's neck. She felt the hard outline of the muscle of his shoulder beneath her fingers and she kneaded his skin the way a cat kneads a silk pillow. Damon responded with a deep groan of desire.

He urged her mouth open and when she slowly parted her lips for him he muttered something thick and sensual. Hot gold poured through her in a dizzying wave. Then he was tasting her with the tip of his tongue, inviting her to join him in a small, astonishingly sexy duel.

"Wait." Damon tore his mouth away from her.

She blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he said with a smile, and his eyes grew serious again. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and produced a small box. Damon held it out to her. "I have something for you."

She sucked in a breath, staring at the small, dark blue box. Her fingers trembled as she reached for it, and slowly snapped the case open.

An oval diamond the size of a pebble was set into a thick gold band. She stared at the ring in surprise, then at Damon.

"I picked the inscription for you," he said, his voice a little gruff. "Do you like it?"

"Inscription?" She pulled the ring out of the box and peered at the inside of the band, turning the ring to read the tiny lettering printed there. "'Every heart hears a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.'" Her eyes filled with the tears she had been unable to hold back. "It's beautiful. Did you write it?"

"Plato, actually," he told her with a grin. A laugh escaped her, wild and free. Plato. Of course it was. How very perfect.

"You are my heart, Elena. I know it feels like such a short time together, but I want to wake up every day with you at my side and in my life." He took the ring from her trembling fingers and held it out to her. "Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will," she said, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Damon told her.

Slipping the ring on her finger, she kissed him with all the love in her heart.


	14. Chapter 14

_He saw her lying on the hallway floor, crushed flowers all around her and blood staining her gown and her body._

 _He dropped to his knees and touched her bloody gown as if he could not believe what he was seeing. "Oh my God! It's my fault. I should have never left you here alone. Who did this to you?"_

 _He lifted her gently and held her in his warm embrace. For the first time, he saw her face. Not Katherine._

 _"Elena."_

"Damon, you are dreaming. Wake up. It is alright. I'm here."

He came awake on a surge of adrenaline, aware of the warmth of Elena's hand on his bare arm, aware of her comforting energy.

He opened his eyes and saw her bending over him. Her anxious concern was a palpable force in the atmosphere. He had probably scared the hell out of her. He sat forward, scrubbing his face with his hands. He willed himself to full wakefulness.

"Elena," he said again.

"I'm here."

She was safe. There was no blood on her body. She was still alive.

"Sorry," he said. His voice sounded rough, as if he had dragged it out of the fog of the nightmare. "Must have been dreaming."

"Yes. You called my name."

He tried to think. "It was the recurring dream I told you before. But it was different this time. Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"How different was it?"

He winced. "Just different."

She paused. "You called my name."

"Probably because you weren't supposed to be in it."

"What was I doing in it?"

"Scaring the hell out of me," he said.

"Explain."

"It's the same dream that I told you about."

"The one in which Joseph found Katherine lying on the hallway?"

"Yes. Usually, it's like some damned video loop. It keeps repeating, over and over again. Always the same. Until tonight."

"What was different about tonight's version?"

He looked at her, his eyes burning a little in the shadows. "Tonight you were the woman lying on the hallway. You were covered with blood."

"You have been thinking of this case over and over again, and that probably why you had this new version of the dream." She leaned over and brushed her mouth against his. Then she pulled back. "But it's okay. I'm not Katherine."

"I was so scared to see you lying there. There was a lot of blood…" His voice trailed off.

"It is only a dream." She reassured him. "It is not real."

"It is not real?"

"Yes," she said. "It is not real. You and I – we are real."

He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. She turned her head and kissed his palm. He wrapped one arm around her and drew her back down to him. Then his mouth closed over hers. Heat and sparkling energy crackled through her. He made the kiss last a long time. She could kiss him like this for weeks or months at a time, Elena thought.

And then he turned her over and came down on top of her, one leg anchoring her thigh so that she was open to his touch.

He tugged the nightgown up to her waist and higher still until he could pull it off entirely. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the crumpled garment go sailing off into the nearest corner She didn't see it hit the floor because she was too utterly focused on the looming shape of Damon as he bent his head to her breast.

When he took her nipple between his teeth she heard a soft, breathless sigh of pleasure. It took her a moment to realize that she was the one who had made the sound.

She reached down and enclosed him with her fingers, exploring the length and breadth of him. The fierceness of his erection excited her. She felt him grow even tighter and bigger at her touch.

His hand moved up the inside of her thigh. One long finger slid slowly, deeply into her, stroking, prodding and stretching.

Another finger followed. She could feel the slick dampness gathering between her legs.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" He nuzzled her belly.

"Now," she urged, digging her nails into his shoulders. "Please, yes, now."

He did the thing with his thumb again. "There's no rush."

"Yes, there is." She tried to shake him, but it was like trying to move a large boulder.

"You are still tight. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me." She clutched him harder and moved her hips against his hand.

"I won't hurt you. But let's see if we can make you a little wetter first."

He started to move farther down her body, pausing here and there to drop kisses onto her sensitive skin.

He reached the inside of her thigh.

"No, wait," she gasped. "Come back here."

She heard his low, wicked laugh again, and then felt his warm breath and his tongue on her.

It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming.

A moment later the climax rolled through her, as deep and unstoppable as an earthquake.

She was vaguely aware of Damon shifting his weight, sliding heavily between her legs.

He pushed himself deliberately into her, stretching her, filling her completely.

She was stunned to feel herself coming again. Damon rode the new tremors with her, pounding hard and fast into her body. His back was slick with perspiration, every muscle rigid.

Damon's hoarse shout of exultant, triumphant release gave her as much pure, unadulterated pleasure and satisfaction as her own climax.

He gradually drifted back to full awareness. Damon took his time about it, savouring the feel of Elena's body curled alongside his own. Her head was cradled on his arm. She had one palm resting on his chest and one foot wedged tantalizingly intimately between his legs. He felt her flex her toes a few times as though she liked touching him that way.

A warm, heavy, very bright sensation drifted through him. Only Elena could make him feel like this.

He shoved a pillow under his head and smiled into the shadows.

"What's so funny?" she asked softly.

He looked at her. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

He smiled. "I'm happy."

"You are happy?"

He grinned. "Yes, I'm very happy."

She smiled. "Well, there is something I want to talk to you." She folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin on her hands. "We need to talk to John."

He went blank for a few seconds. "John?"

"John is my uncle. He is still family although I don't like him that much." She paused. "I guess I have to inform him we are getting married."

He traced the outline of her ear with his finger. "I understand."

"You do?"

"You can't change your roots, Elena. John may not be the nicest uncle but he is still your family." He twisted his fingers gently in her hair. "Why don't you invite him for lunch? We can tell him about the wedding."

She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said simply.

"But John is still a suspect at the moment…"

"We can deal with that later." He kissed her forehead. "Trust me."

x x x

"You what?" Tea sloshed over the side of the cup. John sputtered wildly. "You want to marry Damon Salvatore? Are you crazy? Do you know what in the world are you doing?"

Elena ignored that. "Yes, I know exactly what I'm doing." She caught the brief, amused smile that edged Damon's mouth. "I'm going to marry Damon."

Isobel regarded her with a long, considering look. "I was under the impression that you two were having some fun together. Never would have guessed you two are seriously involved."

John turned on Damon with a thunderous expression. "If you think I'm going to stand by while you shack up indefinitely with Elena, you can think again."

Elena's mouth tightened. "Shack up? Damon and I are serious about our relationship."

Isobel brushed that aside. "I supposed you have heard about the Salvatore men are well known to display womanizing tendencies with the opposite sex. He will break your heart, honey."

"Nonsense." Elena swept out a hand. "I trust Damon."

John stared at her. "Nonsense? How long have you known him? He is a Salvatore. You can't trust a Salvatore."

Damon cleared his throat. "I know there were some bad blood between you and Joseph. But I'm serious about Elena."

"How sweet is that?" Isobel said sarcastically.

Anger rose in Elena, so white and furious she could barely contain it. "You may dislike Damon because he is a Salvatore. But I don't. I love him. I love Damon. I'm letting you know I'm getting married because you are family. I don't need your approval."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" John was really angry now. "You don't need my approval?"

"Yes," she shot back. "I don't need your approval. You are my uncle, you are not my father."

"I think you two have to calm down," Isobel said mildly.

Elena glared at Isobel. "Stay out of this, Isobel. It has nothing to do with you. This is between me and John."

"How dare you say that?" John roared. "She is your mother, for goodness sake!"

Both Elena and Damon stared at him.

"What?" After the first, stunned disbelief, Elena could only laugh. "John, you can't be serious!"

She turned to look at Isobel. Isobel's face said it all. Guilt, shock, and anguish washed it all at once.

Elena felt sick. "You are my mother?"

Damon wrapped one arm around Elena's hand. "I know you don't like me, John. Neither do I. But I won't let you upset my girlfriend. We are leaving, sweetheart."

"I'm not lying," John growled. "I'm telling her the truth."

"John, don't!" Isobel tried to stop him. "Please."

"We owe it to her, Isobel. We have to tell her." John ran his hand over his face, then raised his gaze to meet Elena. "Elena, Isobel and I are your biological parents."

"What?" Elena choked out, unable to allow herself to believe her own ears. "My parents are Grayson and Miranda Gilbert."

"They adopted you after Isobel gave birth to you," John said. "We gave you the name Elena."

Isobel covered her face. "Jesus, this can't be happening!"

Elena shook her head. "No, it can't be true!"

John sighed. "It's not a very pretty story, Elena. Isobel and I started dating when I became her agent. She got pregnant not long later but because of her career, we had to give you up. Grayson, my brother and his wife were so eager to have children at that time. We thought it would probably be the best for you."

Damon eyed him with deep suspicion. "You are not lying about this?"

"I swear to God I would never lie about this!" John retorted. "Elena is my daughter."

Elena lost it, completely. "You bastard! You are lying!" She got to her feet. "You damned, filthy, rotten bastard! I won't believe what you said! You are lying…"

Damon wrapped one arm around her waist, trying to calm her down. She fought him too, trying to twist away from him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He got her out of Mystic Grill and she collapsed against him.

When he eventually got her into his car, she was racked with shudders. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of her house. He took the keys out and turned to her. "Elena, listen to me. I understand why you react like that, but tomorrow you have to talk to John calmly."

She nodded, like an exhausted child. She retreated to her bedroom as soon as she was inside the house. Damon did not try to stop her. She lay limp on her bed.

He made her a cup of hot tea and made her sit and drink it. Then he sat beside her on the bed, his arm around her. "I don't want to see him," she said, over and over again. "I just don't want to see them."

He smoothed the hair from her tear-stained face. "Elena, whatever happened, I will always be there for you. I will never leave you."

"Damon…" she said against his shoulder. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

"I won't."

"You won't go away, will you?"

"Not on your life," he said and squeezed her close. "Not on your life."

He sat straight and held her at arm's length. "But you still need to talk to them. You need to get the answer."

She nodded and laid her hands on his chest. "Can you stay with me?"

"My pleasure, darling," he whispered, drawing her against him and resting his chin on the top of her head. "I will always stay with you."

He tipped her face up and kissed her, giving himself over to the taste and warmth and feel of her mouth until she angled her head back and murmured, "Make love to me, Damon."

"What, now?"

"Um-huh."

He laid her down until they were stretched out on the bed, their clothing strewn about like hurricane-driven debris. He kissed her mouth, throat, breasts. Then he trapped her face between his rough palms and lifted his mouth only a centimetre or two above hers. Elena thought she would drown in the brilliance of his eyes.

"I love you, Elena," he said softly.

"Damon," she whispered. "I love you too."

And then Damon was on top of her, driving himself deeply into her. She gripped his shoulders, raised her knees and tightened around him. She felt his muscles harden under her clutching hands. Her insides clenched tighter and tighter.

Damon's entire body went rigid. Beneath her palms, the muscles of his back could have been sculpted from steel. With an effort, she managed to open her eyes. The afternoon light revealed the savage set of his hard face. It was the expression of a man on the verge of either sexual release or lethal violence.

He opened his eyes and saw her watching him. He did not speak. She knew that, like her, he could not. They were both too far gone into the whirling fire. But in that heartbeat of time she sensed a flash of intense awareness—a kind of mutual recognition—resonating between them.

Then her climax rolled through her, stealing her breath. A heartbeat later Damon followed her over the edge.

A long time later she stirred and leaned over him.

"There is something I want to discuss with you," she said.

His hand moved in her hair.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I want to have babies."

He raised his brows. "Babies?"

"Yeah, babies." She paused. "Not right away, but within the next few years." She licked her lips nervously. "I know we have never discussed that before but it is exactly what I want from our life together."

He smiled and placed one large, warm hand over her stomach. "Babies, huh?"

"Yeah, I want three."

"Three?"

She grinned. "Yeah, three."

x x x

As Damon and Elena neared John's house, the light-hearted mood Elena tried to preserve began to disintegrate. She didn't like the feeling of seeing John and Isobel again but she knew she had to do it.

"Here we are," Damon said a few minutes later as they turned into the drive. "Home sweet home."

"This is never my home," she said quietly as she looked at the house.

"It must be hard for parents to give up their own child," Damon told her with quiet reassurance, helping her out of the car, "maybe they thought it was the best for you at that time."

Elena hoped he was right. "Here goes," she said, drawing a deep breath as they walked up the steps to the front door. Since Damon had called this morning and told John Elena would meet him for dinner, she assumed John would be waiting.

She was right. John opened the door the moment Damon rang the bell once. He looked like he hadn't sleep in a week. Isobel was sitting on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine. She still remained cool and distance as usual.

Shaking with nerves, Elena sat beside Damon on the sofa. He reached out to hold her hand in his. She gave him a fleeting smile. She knew she wouldn't be able to endure this if Damon wasn't with her.

"Dinner is almost ready," John said as he set two glasses of wine on the coffee table.

"John did the cooking tonight," Isobel said casually.

Damon sniffed the aromas emanating from the kitchen. "Smells good. What's for dinner?"

"Spinach and feta cheese lasagne," John said. "Then we have apple pie for dessert."

"Lasagne?" Damon got a dreamy expression. "Oh, man. I really, really like lasagne. You like lasagne, don't you, Elena?"

She nodded and looked at John. "Didn't know you could cook."

"I used to spend a lot of time with your father…" John's voice trailed off. He paused. "Grayson was a good cook. He taught me some tricks here and there."

Elena reached for her wine. "Hmm."

Isobel spoke up. "So, you two are still serious about getting married?"

Elena stiffened. "Yes. Dead serious."

Damon swallowed more wine and slowly lowered the glass. "But we haven't planned anything yet. Elena can decide what she wants for the wedding."

Elena looked at him and smiled. He smiled back at her.

"How sweet is that," Isobel said.

But Elena could sense the sarcastic tone in her voice. Her temper rose. "Obviously if you two aren't happy, you don't have to turn up to our wedding. I think this dinner is a waste of time." She turned to Damon to suggest they leave, but John interrupted her, his voice taut with strain. "We are your parents, Elena. We won't miss your wedding. Damon and I need to have a private talk, however."

Elena didn't like the sound of that, but Damon nodded curtly to reassure her. Both men walked to the kitchen.

When they were in the kitchen, Damon waited for a tirade to begin, but John seemed to get himself under control. He stared at Damon for several long, hard moments —mentally calculating, Damon suspected, the best way to ram home whatever he planned to say next.

"Is she pregnant?" John blurted out.

Damon blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Is Elena pregnant? Did you get her pregnant?"

"No, Elena is not pregnant," Damon answered. "But babies are definitely on the radar."

There was a short, strained silence.

John's jaw tightened. "What do you want, Damon?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You Salvatore men are greedy, aren't you?" John said, his face darkening with rage. "Joseph took Katherine away and now you want to take my daughter away."

"Don't you forget you are the one who gave up your daughter twenty-eight years ago," Damon sneered.

"Son of a bitch!" John snarled.

John's fist slammed forward with surprising force. Damon dodged the blow, grabbed John's arm in mid-swing, then he yanked him forward, spun him around, and jerked his arm up high behind his back. In a soft snarl, he said, "For your information, I didn't steal Elena from you. I love her. Joseph didn't take Katherine from you as well. They loved each other."

"Let go of my arm, you son of a bitch."

Damon shoved him forward.

"What's going on here?" Elena appeared at the doorway. She eyed both men in deep suspicion. "Damon?"

"We are talking about the lasagne's recipe, aren't we, Damon?" John said with a tight smile on his face.

"Yeah, the recipe," Damon said dryly. "Dinner is ready, isn't it, John?"

"Yes, dinner is ready. I will get the lasagne." John looked at Damon. "Give me a hand, will you, Damon?"

"Sure." Damon gave Elena a small push. "Why don't you get me another glass of wine and wait for me at the table?"

"Okay," she said.

When Elena walked out of the kitchen, John turned to face Damon. "I'd prefer you not upset Elena by telling her what transpired in here. I care about her. I don't want to lose my daughter, Damon," he said stonily. "It's obvious you and I are never going to like each other, however, for her sake, we can at least try to get along."

Damon studied John's angry, set face, but there was no sign of duplicity in his expression. Furthermore, what he was suggesting was logical, sensible, and in his own and his daughter's best interests. After a moment, Damon nodded curtly and accepted the offer at face value. "We can try."

Lying beside Damon, Elena stared at the ceiling above her bed, alarmed by the change she had sensed in him ever since he had spoken with John. When she had asked him what took place in the kitchen, all Damon would tell her was, "He tried to talk me into not marrying you." Since the two men had treated each other civilly during dinner, Elena assumed they had declared a truce, and she had teasingly asked, "Did he succeed?" Damon had said no, and she had believed him, but there was something going on in his mind that he hadn't shared with her.

She stole a sideways glance at him; he was wide awake, his jaw tight, lost in thought, but she couldn't tell whether he was angry, sad, or simply preoccupied.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked abruptly.

"Nothing," he lied.

She rolled over onto her stomach and braced herself on her forearms. "Don't lie to me, Damon. I know there's something going on. What have you been thinking about?"

He exhaled slowly and changed the topic. "I thought things went well. You were getting along with John and Isobel by the end of the evening."

Elena smiled as she shook her head and explained, "I won't be able to endure the evening if you weren't there."

When he didn't reply to that, she looked at him and saw that he still looked grim and preoccupied. "Damon, what is it?"

"Nothing." He shifted onto his side and touched her arm, sliding his hand caressingly over her skin. "Nothing important, really."

He ran his hand over the shimmering mass of hair that spilled over her back. "Go to sleep, it's late now. You have to go to work tomorrow morning."

"Damon…" she protested.

But he seized her mouth in a hard kiss that robbed her of breath and the ability to think.

An hour later he was still awake. Elena slumbered beside him.

John's words came back to his mind. _Joseph took Katherine away and now you want to take my daughter away._

John had believed that Joseph had stolen Katherine away from him.

He went over the details of the murders again and thought about some of the loose threads that still dangled and wondered if he would ever get all of the answers. But one thing he was certain. John didn't kill Katherine. He loved her, he really loved her.

If John wasn't the killer, who would it be?

Maybe it was past time to talk to Mason Lockwood.

x x x

"Your father?" Jo squeaked. "You are kidding!"

Still suffering after-shocks, Elena braced herself for a long session. "Isobel got pregnant while dating John. But because of her career, they decided to give me up to Grayson and Miranda."

"Jesus," Jo said. "How weird to meet your biological parents after all this time? Especially you have always treated them as your uncle and aunty."

Elena shrugged. "Yeah, it is odd. Very odd. I couldn't suddenly be all lovey-dovey with them. We met them later, for dinner. I was glad to have Damon there, I can't tell you. I felt really awkward."

"I bet you did."

"I made Damon miss nearly a whole day at work. He never said a word, but I feel so bad."

"Oh, stuff it," Jo said comfortably. "You needed somebody with you at a time like that. And Damon is the perfect person for this."

"I know but I still feel bad about it."

"Don't be silly. He is your fiancé." Jo glanced at Elena and realised she was frowning. "What's wrong, Elena?"

Elena hesitated for a moment. "I'm not sure. I felt really awkward and uncomfortable to see John and Isobel."

"Everyone would feel awkward and uncomfortable in a situation like this," Jo said. "You don't have to force yourself to do things you don't want to, you know."

"I know what you mean." She paused. "But there was something really strange."

"Care to explain?"

For ages she paused. "It's Isobel."

"Isobel?"

She nodded. "I was probably quite wrong." Restlessly she turned in her seat. "It was just something in her expression, some mannerism or other…..there was something I couldn't put my finger on…"

"Carry on."

"I have a feeling that Isobel doesn't like me at all."

Jo's eyes widened. "What?"

"I should never have said it," she went on. "I should have kept my mouth shut."

"Why did you say that?" Jo asked. "What makes you think Isobel doesn't like you? You are her daughter."

Elena shrugged. "I don't know. The way she looked at me was strange…It didn't hit me at first. Isobel and I have never been close after she married John. But after I know the truth, the feeling is getting stronger…"

"What feeling?"

"I could see hatred in her eyes." Elena shuddered at the thought of it. "I could see flicker of hatred in her eyes every now and then."

"Did you talk to Damon about this?"

Elena shook her head. "I'm probably wrong about this. Maybe subconsciously I'm still not accepting the fact that they are my biological parents."

"Oh, Elena." Jo reached across, took her hand and squeezed it. "It must be hard on you."

She took a deep breath. "I will survive. Maybe we need more time to adjust to this new relationship."

"A lot has happened recently, Elena. You need time. They also need time," Jo said. "Don't be too harsh on yourself, girl."

Elena smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad you are here, Jo."

"I guess you should be glad Damon is here, shouldn't you?" Jo teased.

She laughed. "Yes, I'm glad he is here. Damon makes me happy."

"I'm glad I make you happy, Dr Gilbert."

Damon walked into the parlour with Alaric trailing behind him. Elena smiled when she saw Damon. He smiled at her.

"Well, well, I'm hungry," Jo said as Alaric reached her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Why don't we order pizza and have some beer?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Elena said. "What do you guys think?"

"Pizza sounds delicious," Alaric said.

"I eat anything." Damon winked at Elena. "I'm easy like that."

Elena laughed as he held her in his arms. Every time she smiled, every time she laughed, Damon knew as long as Elena was in his life, he would always be touched by fire in one way or another. He would never let go of this woman. His woman.


	15. Chapter 15

Shortly before six o'clock in the afternoon, Mason Lockwood wandered into Mystic Falls only supermarket. It was one of the oldest stores in town.

Tyler was having dinner with his ex-classmates. Mason preferred to spend the night by himself than going out. A simple meal wasn't that difficult to prepare, he thought. And he found what he was looking for three-quarters of the way down one of the long aisles.

There were frozen pizzas and meat pies in the refrigerator. He could make himself some salad, he said to himself as he picked up a frozen pizza from the fridge.

A figure darkened the far end of the aisle. Mason lowered the box and his jaw tightened when he saw Damon coming toward him.

"I thought you would be on your way out of town by now, Mason," Damon said.

"Don't worry, I will be leaving soon."

"But before you go, I wanted to talk to you first." Damon came to a halt in the middle of the aisle. "It's about Katherine."

Mason did not move. "I have told you before. I don't really want to discuss her. Especially with you."

"Don't you want to know who killed Katherine?" Damon said, said, looking serious and profound. "I thought you loved her."

Mason clenched his fists at his side. "Joseph Salvatore killed her! Everyone in town knows about it."

"That's not true." Damon shook his head. "Both Katherine and Joseph were murdered."

"That's bullshit."

"It is the truth," Damon said. "Katherine was dying when Joseph returned home. Someone pulled the trigger to make the crime scene looked like a suicide."

"There was another person in the house?" Mason looked startled. Then he chuckled. "Joseph was your uncle. You will take on his side."

"I'm trying to find out the truth, Mason. That's the reason why I came back to Mystic Falls."

Mason narrowed his eyes. "You are serious about this?"

"Use your head, Lockwood. Why do you think Joseph would kill Katherine? They were in love with each other. Joseph even planned to go to Hollywood with Katherine."

Mason looked thoughtful. "Who would want both of them dead?"

"Tell me something," Damon said. "Where were you that night when Katherine died?"

"There was a celebration party at my brother's mansion." Mason's mouth compressed. "I had got alibis that night."

"You could easily sneak out of the party and murder Katherine and Joseph."

Mason looked shocked. "I murdered Katherine and Joseph? That's pure bullshit."

"Why not? You hated them."

"The situation was complicated. I doubt if you would understand," Mason said. "But I didn't kill them."

"Someone saw your bike near the house that night."

"What?" Mason said, stunned. "It must be a mistake. I didn't leave the party that night. The sheriff was there. She could be my alibi. Even Isobel was there."

Damon's brows raised. "Isobel?"

"Yes. Isobel turned up to the party." Mason raised one shoulder in an easy, unconcerned shrug. "Well, maybe she was trying to catch the media attention. I wasn't surprised. She was not really famous at that time."

"I heard that Katherine and Isobel were pretty close," Damon said. "You and Katherine dated for a while. You must know Isobel quite well."

"Isobel is as cold as ice. I was surprised she would marry John Gilbert."

"Why not?"

"Just a feeling that she didn't like or trust men." Mason shrugged casually again. "I heard Isobel and John are the biological parents of Elena Gilbert. That is a hell of a shocking news."

"So, you heard as well," Damon said softly.

"It is a small town." Mason looked at him. "How's Elena? How did she take the news?"

"Elena is one of the strongest women I have ever known," Damon said proudly. "She can deal with anything."

"You know her pretty well."

"When it comes to the important stuff," Damon said softly, "Elena and I understand each other just fine."

"Right."

"Let's get back to Katherine and Joseph," Damon said quickly. "You didn't leave the party that night. Did anyone take your bike that night?"

Mason shook his head. "My bike was in the garage the whole night. I was fairly certain nobody took my bike that night."

Damn, Damon thought. If Mason didn't leave the party that night, the one and only person who could drive a bike to the Salvatore house would be John Gilbert.

"You plan to continue your investigation still?" Mason asked.

"I won't give up."

"Understood. Good luck with your investigation, by the way."

"I don't plan to leave it to luck."

Mason started to turn around. He paused. "By the way, I did hate your uncle at that time. But I couldn't deny the fact he was a very talented musician. I loved Katherine. I would never hurt her."

"I know."

Mason hesitated. Then he nodded. "Maybe you do. Looking back, I wish I had handled things differently. I think Katherine and I could have had something special together."

"But you will get over her, right?"

"Oh, sure. Life goes on."

"You know, Mason. I really hope you can find someone who truly appreciates who you are."

Mason didn't bother to conceal his surprise. "Thanks. Mind if I ask why you give a damn?"

"Because I'm sure both Katherine and Joseph would want you to lead a happy life."

Mason gave him a fleeting smile. "I will."

He turned and walked off down the aisle.

Damon waited until Mason walked out of the supermarket before he emerged. He looked down the rows of pickups and SUVs parked in the small lot and saw the blue Camaro. Elena was waiting for him inside his car.

"What did Mason say?" Elena asked as soon as he slipped inside the driver's seat.

He drove out of the parking lot. "Said he didn't leave the party."

"Do you believe him?"

He glanced at her briefly. "I trust evidence. Mason said he had alibis that night. Then we will talk to his alibis."

"What about John?"

A short silence fell. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. "You are keeping something from me, aren't you?"

His car came to a halt in front of her house. He turned off the engine.

"Mason said he left his bike in the garage the whole night."

She stilled. "That means John was the one who had been to the Salvatore boarding house that night."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Don't forget John was in Hollywood when Katherine died."

"But you said he could have easily ducked back to Mystic Falls to kill Katherine."

"It is a huge assumption."

She contemplated that for a moment. Then she gently cleared her throat. "What's your plan next?"

"A friend of mine is a private investigator in New York. I have asked him to check on what did John do and who were the people he met in Hollywood."

They got out of the car and walked to the house. She opened the door and went inside the house. Damon followed behind.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "Just tired, I guess."

"Trust me, Elena. I know you can't wait for this case to come to an end. So do I."

"Hmm."

She hung her jacket in the closet and started toward the hall that led to the kitchen. Halfway across the living room she noticed the light on the answering machine and changed course. She went to the table where the phone sat, and punched up the message.

She was startled to hear Mason Lockwood's voice.

"I called you on account because I don't know Damon's number. There is something important I just found out. I got to talk to you and Damon. Come to my place as soon as possible."

There was a muffled crash on the other end of the line. Mason had hung up in a hurry.

Elena glared at the answering machine. "What's going on?"

Damon frowned. "I figure we should go to his place as soon as possible."

She picked up the phone and hit redial. "I will let him know we are on our way."

No answer.

She ended the call before voice mail picked up. "I think we better find Mason now."

"Sure."

Damon had a feeling he didn't like. He was certain Elena felt the same as well.

x x x

The shadow saw Damon's blue Camaro exited the carpark.

"Son of a bitch." The shadow whistled softly. "You are annoying, aren't you?"

It was obvious that the shadow got some more cleaning up to do. The shadow blame this mess on Damon Salvatore. If he hadn't come here to Mystic Falls to find out what happened to Joseph and Katherine, none of this would have happened. The secret had been kept for the last thirty-five years and no one had ever suspected anything.

Okay, more cleaning up. That was easy.

The shadow liked cleaning up.

x x x

The drive to Mason Lockwood's house took about twenty minutes. The trip proved to be an unsettling experience for Elena.

It wasn't right, she thought. Something wasn't' right.

Why did Mason call her suddenly? He said he found out something important. What was it?

"Hurry up, Damon."

Damon tromped on the accelerator, anxious to get to his destination. "I know."

He drove past the park and kept going for a short distance.

Elena folded her arms tightly beneath her breasts. Her body was tense. She was concerned and she appeared to be getting more so as they got closer to Mason's house.

"Take it easy, Mason will be fine," he said.

"He sounded alarmed on the phone," Elena said. "He must have found out something important."

He navigated the last tight curve in the road and reached Wickery Trail, a small neighbourhood next to Mystic Falls. The houses on Wickery Trail sat on large, heavily forested lots that ran down to the water's edge.

Only a handful of the homes were owned by local families. Most were summer places that were darned empty at this time of the year.

He slowed and turned into the narrow lane that led to the Mason's house. The windows on this side o he two-story structure were dark, but a light burned over the front door. Mason's BMW was parked at the driveway.

He eased the Camaro to a halt behind the truck and switched off the engine.

"Well, at least we know he is inside the house waiting for us,"

Damon opened the car door and got out. The chill of the late evening closed in around him.

Elena did not wait for him to come around to her side of the car. She already had her own door open. A few seconds later she joined him at the front of the Camaro.

"I hope everything is alright," she said.

Then they walked quickly to the well-lit front door and leaned on the bell.

There was no response.

They looked around and saw that the garage door was closed.

"Mason.? Damon and Elena out here," he called.

The door did not open. He glanced at the nearest window. It was locked and the curtain was closed. He couldn't see anything inside.

"I got your message." Elena rapped her knuckles on the blank window. "Are you okay in there?"

He knew Elena was getting more agitated. He had to admit that the utter silence from inside the house was starting to bother him, too.

Why wasn't Mason answering the phone or the door?

A faint gleam of light caught his eye. It emanated from the back of the house.

"Come on. Let's see whether there is a back door," Damon said.

He turned and went toward the glow. Elena followed him closely behind.

The route took them past the utility room door on the side of the house.

Damon unlatched the gate at the end of the walk and moved into the garden.

The curtains at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room were closed. The light that he had followed came from a table lamp that had been turned down very low.

Damon studied the shadowed room carefully and methodically, starting on the left where the massive stone fireplace formed most of the wall. Halfway across the space he saw the overturned slipper. It lay on the rug at the end of the brown leather sofa. A portion of a bare foot extended slightly off the edge of the cushions.

He stilled. Stomach tensing, he moved along the wall of windows until he could see what was there at the front of the sofa. Elena followed quickly.

Mason reclined on the cushions. He was dressed in black-coloured trousers and a blue silk shirt. He was still in the same attire when Damon saw him at the supermarket not long before.

His face was turned away from the windows. One limp dangled above the floor.

A cocktail pitcher and an empty martini glass sat on the low wooden coffee table.

"Mason." Damon pounded on the glass. "Mason, wake up."

"Oh, my God!" Elena exclaimed. "Mason!"

The man on the sofa did not stir.

Damon seized the handle of the sliding glass door and tugged with all of his strength.

The door finally opened.

He went inside the house, groped for and found the light switch. The weak bulb in the overhead fixture winked on. Both Elena and him raced down the shadowed hall into the living room.

"Mason, it's me, Elena. Wake up."

Elena stopped beside the sofa and reached down to grip Mason's shoulder.

"Dear God, no."

She stepped back, swallowing the nausea that threatened to well up inside. Blindly, she reached into her purse for her cell phone.

"Dead?" Damon asked, moving toward the sofa.

She punched out 911 with shaking fingers. "He's not responding."

He reached down and put his fingers on the man's throat looking for a pulse.

"Definitely dead," he said quietly. "There is no pulse. We are too late."

They both glanced at the empty pitcher on the table. Standing next to it was a small prescription bottle.

It, too, was empty.

"I knew there was something wrong when he didn't answer the phone," she whispered.

He went down on his haunches to read the label on the little bottle. "This is cyanide."

The 911 operator spoke sharply into her ear, demanding to know what the problem was.

Elena took a deep breath, pulled herself together and gave the details of the situation as quickly and concisely as possible. It helped to concentrate on the facts.

By the time, she ended the call, a strange numbness had settled on her. She fumbled with the phone and nearly dropped it before managing to put it back into her shoulder bag. She could not bring herself to look at the body.

"We don't need to wait in here," Damon said, taking her arm. "Let's go outside."

She did not argue. He steered her back along the hall, into the foyer and out onto the front steps.

"Why did Mason poison himself?" she asked shakily.

"He didn't."

"What?"

"I don't think he killed himself," he said.

"Why in the world do you say that?"

"I'm no cop, but it looks to me like someone forced him to ingest cyanide."


	16. Chapter 16

Lilian walked into the kitchen the next morning at nine o'clock and came to a halt, her arms wrapped around a paper sack that bore the logo of the Mystic Falls Market, and fixed Damon with an accusing glare.

"I just came from the market. Everyone's saying that the two of you found Mason Lockwood's body yesterday."

Damon leaned on the kitchen. "The way gossip moves through this town probably ought to be a classified military secret."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lilian put the sack down on the kitchen table. "I'm your mother, for heaven's sake. I should have been the first to know. Instead I had to hear the news from one of the girls at the market. Do you have any idea how bad that was for me?"

"Mason Lockwood called Elena late in the evening, asking us to go to his house as soon as possible. We went to his house as quickly as we could but we were still too late. He was already dead when we arrived. What with one thing and another, there hasn't been time to bring you or dad up to speed. Sorry about that."

Lilian whistled softly and slung her coat over one of the antlers of the coatrack.

"The whole town is talking. I doubt if there's been this much excitement since the day Joseph and Katherine died years ago." She frowned in genuine concern. "How is Elena, by the way? Finding Mason like that must have been dreadful."

"She is terrified but she will be okay."

Lilian took a box out of the paper sack, ripped it open and began arranging doughnuts on a plastic tray. "I heard Mason died of cyanide poisoning."

"Yes."

"Suicide?" Lilian asked, looking uneasy.

"Mason sent an message to Tyler Lockwood just before he died. It looked like a suicide note," Damon said. "The local authorities are going to call it a probable suicide, but I think there's more to it."

Lilian looked at him, a tense, troubled expression creasing her face. "You are sure there's more to it?"

"Yes."

Lilian frowned. "You seem to have got a hunch there's more to this story. What's going on?"

"I think Mason Lockwood was murdered," Damon said.

Elena walked into the kitchen before Lilian could respond to Damon's statement. Her face was set and resolute.

Good morning didn't seem appropriate under the circumstances, Damon thought. He searched for another, more suitable greeting.

"Hey," he said. Who said he couldn't do social repartee?

She smiled a little, but her eyes were wary. "Hello."

"Get any sleep last night?" he asked.

"Not much. What about you?"

"A little."

"Listen, about Mason Lockwood," Lilian continued. "I know it must have been tough on you, Elena, finding him the way you did last night." She reached for the coffeepot. "How about a nice hot cup of coffee and a doughnut?"

Elena smiled at Lilian. "That sounds great," she said. "Thank you."

Lilian beamed. She handed Elena a mug of coffee and a small napkin with one of the cardboard doughnuts perched on top.

Elena sipped the coffee and nibbled daintily on the doughnut. "Finding Mason was certainly a terrible shock," she said. "I'm sure Damon has told you about the suicide note. But we don't know that Mason killed himself."

Giuseppe appeared at the doorway. "I think you two should stop trying to do the little investigation on your own."

Damon slanted him a quick glance. "I know what I'm doing."

"Look, I admit I haven't been living here for a very long time, but from what I have heard, the sheriff is an honest cop. There's no reason to believe she wouldn't conduct a legitimate investigation if she found anything to warrant one."

"There won't be an investigation. Not unless Mayor Lockwood wants it, and I can pretty much guarantee that's not going to happen," Damon said. "Just the opposite, more likely."

"Because he doesn't want more rumours about Mason's suicide?"

"Exactly. The last thing he will allow is an investigation into his brother's death."

Giuseppe's jaw tightened. "Judging from some of the local gossip I have heard here in Mystic Falls, I guess it could get kind of messy."

"The suicide note said that Mason regretted for what he had done to Katherine and Joseph. Even though it didn't mention what was it about, it wasn't difficult for people to link his suicide with the death of Katherine and Joseph," Damon pointed out. "Any serious investigation is bound to dredge up a lot of old stuff that I'm sure Richard Lockwood wouldn't want. It could damage the Lockwood family image further."

Elena looked at Damon. "If it gets out that there's even a remote possibility that Mason was murdered, it will cause a firestorm."

Giuseppe exhaled slowly. "Damn. I was afraid that was where you two were going with this."

Damon did not respond, but when he glanced at him he saw that the hand resting on his thigh was curled into a tight fist.

"Do you really believe that's what happened?" Giuseppe asked, gentling his tone.

"I don't know. But I intend to find out," Damon said.

"Have you got any hard evidence to support the idea that someone killed Mason Lockwood?" Lilian asked.

"None whatsoever," Damon admitted. "But I will tell you this much. If I'm right about how Mason died, then it's very possible that his death is linked to the deaths of Katherine and Joseph thirty-five years ago."

"No offense, son, but you're starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist."

"I know."

Lilian looked at Elena. "Are you going to let Damon carrying on this little investigation on his own, Elena?" she asked, deeply wary. "I'm starting to worry about you two."

Elena looked at Damon. "I trust Damon. I know he is doing the right thing."

Damon smiled at her.

Giuseppe sighed. "Well, I hope you two are right."

x x x

The centre of town was busier than Damon had ever seen it since he had arrived in Mystic Falls. The parking lot in front of the post office was jammed with trucks, vans and SUVs. He glanced through the windows of the Mystic Grill and saw that every booth was filled.

A long, gleaming black limo occupied three spaces in the parking lot in front of the municipal building that housed the mayor's office, the town council chambers and the police department. Damon pulled into a slot beside the big car and sat quietly for a few seconds, studying the scene.

"Something's missing here," he said.

Elena looked at him. "Like the major media?"

"Looks like the news of Mason Lockwood's death hasn't gone beyond the town limits yet."

"Except for the story in this morning's edition of the Richmond Daily, you mean," she said.

"Except for that," he agreed. "But since I doubt that anyone outside of Richmond actually reads the Richmond Daily, I think it's safe to say that the story is still very low profile."

Elena unfastened her seat belt. "Mystic Falls Daily is a local newspaper in town. I doubt some other newspapers have got the word yet." She paused. "Are you sure you want to the mayor?"

"Yes."

Her gut tightened. Disaster loomed.

"You know," she said, choosing her words carefully, "it might be a good idea to talk about how we want to approach this conversation with Richard Lockwood. Never hurts to have a strategy."

But she was conversing with herself. Damon was out of the vehicle.

"That's the end of peace and quiet in Mystic Falls," she said to the empty driver seat.

"Aren't you coming, Elena?" Damon asked through the window.

"Coming." She slipped out of the Camaro and went after Damon. See caught up with him just as he strode through the front door of the municipal building.

A short distance beyond the entrance, a tall, distinguished-looking man with a very familiar profile stood talking in low tones to Tyler Lockwood.

Richard Lockwood possessed a full head of the silvered hair that seemed to be a requirement for public office. He also had the face for the job, Damon thought. The combination of rugged, man-of-the-West angularity mixed with just the right touch of old-world aristocrat photographed well.

An attractive, well-groomed woman in her late forties stood at his side, gripping his hand in a silent gesture of loving support. Carol Lockwood, he decided.

On the other side of the lobby, an intense, twitchy man spoke urgently but very softly into a phone. An expensive-looking leather briefcase sat beside one foot.

"I know you are very close to Mason, son," Richard said to Tyler. He shook his head in a melancholy gesture. "I was as shocked as you when I heard about the suicide."

"I would have never guessed Mason would kill himself," Tyler said.

"He blamed himself," Richard said. "But obviously in the end his guilt overwhelmed him."

"Why did Mason feel guilty?" Tyler frowned. "I don't understand. Why did Mason blame himself?"

Richard sighed. "You don't understand, son."

The harried-looking man with the briefcase ended his call and hurried toward Richard.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I just spoke with the people who are handling the funeral arrangements. They picked up your brother's body at the hospital morgue a few minutes ago and are on their way back to the. We should be going, too. It won't be much longer before the media gets wind of the tragedy. We need to have a statement ready."

"Yes, of course, Henry," Richard said. "I will talk to you later, Tyler."

"Sure," Tyler said.

Damon stepped directly into Richard's path. "Mayor Lockwood, I'm Damon Salvatore. Remember me? I'm Giuseppe and Lilian Salvatore's son."

Richard looked startled. But his expression quickly turned polite. "Damon Salvatore. Of course I remember you. It has been a very long time since I last saw your parents." His expression grew sombre. "Tyler says you were the one who found Mason yesterday."

That was her cue, Elena thought. "He wasn't alone," she said. "I was with him. I'm Elena Gilbert."

"Elena Gilbert." Richard's eyes tightened a little at the corners. "Tyler mentioned that Grayson's daughter was also on the scene." He indicated the woman at his side. "Damon, Elena, allow me to introduce my wife, Carol Lockwood."

"How do you do?" Carol inclined her head in graceful acknowledgment of the introduction. "I'm so sorry that we are meeting under such sad circumstances."

"Excuse me, sir," Henry muttered. "We really do have to leave."

"Yes, Henry," Richard said. He looked apologetic. "Elena, Damon, this is my aide, Henry Egan. He is in charge of keeping me on schedule. This is a very busy time for me, as I'm sure you are well aware. I've got back-to-back fund-raisers lined up for the next two months. And now I've got Mason's funeral to worry about."

"Gosh, just think, a fund-raiser and your brother's funeral in the same time slot," Damon murmured. "Which will it be? Choices, choices."

There was a short, stunned silence. Elena watched every jaw in the room except her own drop so hard it was a wonder they didn't all crack on the floor.

Richard recovered first. Dismissing Damon, he fixed his attention on Elena. "I'm not entirely clear on why the two of you went to see Mason yesterday."

"It's complicated," Elena said.

"Do you believe your brother would kill himself?" Damon asked. "Can you tell us if there will be an autopsy performed on your brother to determine cause of death?"

Anger flashed across Richard's face, but only for a split second. He veiled it almost instantly. "I'm not sure what's going on here, Damon. But I must make it clear that I have no intention of discussing the details of my brother's death with any member of the press, not even you. This is an intensely personal matter as I'm sure you, of all people, understand."

Damon jerked ever so slightly, as though he'd been slapped, but he did not step back.

"Did the sheriff tell you that the reason I went to see Mason yesterday because he contacted Elena?" he asked.

Richard was clearly astounded by that information. "Mason contacted Elena? What did he want?"

"He didn't say. He just asked Elena and me to go to his house to talk with him."

"Sir," Henry interrupted nervously, "we really have to get moving."

Richard switched his attention back to Damon. "I was surprised Mason would talk to you, Damon. My brother didn't get along with the Salvatore."

"I admit there was bad blood between Mason and my uncle Joseph Salvatore," Damon said very steadily. "But I had talked to him at the supermarket just before he died. Naturally I was more than a little surprised to hear Mason committed suicide. He didn't look like someone who would kill himself."

"Mason gave no indication at all why he wanted to talk to you?" Richard demanded.

"No," Damon said. "But I got the impression that it had something to do with the past."

"What past?" Richard grew visibly calmer.

"Katherine and Joseph."

"Really? Who told you that?"

"Mason found out something important," Damon said. "I think he may have wanted to discuss the circumstances surrounding the death of Katherine Pierce and Joseph Salvatore. I'm sure you recall the case."

Richard stared at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Carol closed her elegantly manicured fingers over his sleeve. "Richard?"

"It's all right, dear." He pulled himself together. "I do remember thirty-five years ago there was a terrible tragedy here in Mystic Falls. A murder-suicide. Your uncle Joseph Salvatore and his girlfriend both died."

Damon did not take his gaze off Richard. "Sir, don't you agree that there is at least a remote possibility that Mason's death is connected to what happened all those years ago?"

"No," Richard said in a thoroughly crushing tone of voice.

Henry Egan jerked. He stared at Damon in mounting horror. "What you are implying is impossible, Mr Salvatore, absolutely impossible. And if you continue any innuendos of that sort, the mayor will consult his lawyers."

Richard gave Damon a hard stare. "Everyone in town knew about the murder-suicide case. Your parents found the bodied. They should know the details."

"Hey, wait a minute." Tyler approached them. "What's going on here? What are you implying that Mason killed himself because of Katherine and Joseph? That's impossible."

"He felt guilty for what happened to Katherine and Joseph," Damon said. "Why did he feel guilty? What had he done to them? Aren't you curious about this?"

"The mayor is a busy man," Henry announced. "We can't delay our departure another minute."

He stepped directly in front of Richard and Carol and led the way purposefully toward the door.

Richard paused at the entrance to look back at Damon. "I'm not sure what is your intention but for the sake of everyone involved, but most of all out of respect for my brother's memory, I ask that you leave this alone.""

"I will never forget how Joseph and Katherine died," Damon said.

Uncertainty darkened Richard's expression. Elena could tell that he was not sure how to take that statement. But Henry Egan was on the move again, shepherding his boss through the doorway.

"The message left by Mason is not a hard evidence," Henry said to Richard. "Don't worry, it won't be a problem, sir."

The trio went down the steps and got into the limo.

Elena looked at Damon. "Congratulations, I think you just rattled the cage of the mayor."

"For all the good it will do." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "There isn't going to be an investigation, is there, Tyler?"

Tyler stirred slightly, as though surprised to learn that anyone had even remembered he was in the room.

"You really think Mason had something to do with the deaths of Katherine and Joseph?" he asked quietly.

"I have got a hunch that there is something more to this story," Damon said.

Tyler contemplated his words for a moment. "I don't believe Mason would kill himself either."

"Then you should push for an investigation," Elena said. "Don't you want to find out the truth?"

Tyler's mouth tightened. "What do you want me to do, Elena? My dad will not agree to this."

Damon smiled coldly. "Well, there's no getting around the fact that the mayor is a powerful man."

"My father just lost his brother. My mum once told me that families usually try to keep suicide very quiet I can tell you that she was right. It's amazing the lengths folks will go in order to hush up that kind of thing."

Damon sighed. "I know."

"Far as I'm concerned," Tyler said, "unless there's a good reason for thinking otherwise, a family is entitled to keep its secrets."

He looked to Elena, obviously seeking some backup.

Elena shrugged. "Depends on the secrets, I guess. But one thing's for sure, every family's got them."

Ten minutes later, Tyler escorted them out the door of the municipal building. Damon was still fuming, but a renewed sense of resolve was setting in. He reminded himself that she had known from the outset that the odds of convincing Richard Lockwood to conduct a full-scale investigation were less than zero.

Elena said nothing, just followed him to his blue Camaro. He opened the passenger-side door. She climbed in swiftly.

Damon got behind the wheel and drove out of the parking lot. Elena could see that every head in the Mystic Grill was turned in the direction of the Camaro.

"Pack of ghouls," she whispered.

"Give them a break," Damon said quietly. "This is a small town. The death of someone like Mason Lockwood, mayor's brother and former basketball star, is bound to grab everyone's attention."

She gripped her shoulder bag very tightly in her lap. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

He gave her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road.

"You are trying to stir things up, aren't you?"

"Mason Lockwood didn't kill himself. I'm not buying it."

"Neither do I," she said. "But what are you planning to do?"

"I'm certain that Mason found out something important but the killer had found out as well."

Elena went still. "The killer? The one who murdered Katherine and Joseph, you mean?"

He nodded. "The killer was trying to make us believe Mason was the one responsible for their death."

"Okay, it makes sense," she conceded. "Moving right along, what was your take on Richard Lockwood this morning? Think he believes there's more to his brother's death?"

He hesitated. "He certainly doesn't want an investigation, does he?"

"You may not like his reasons, but he does have a few."

"I know." He tightened his grip on the wheel. "I told you, he's an ambitious man, completely focused on his career."

"It's bad enough image for the mayor to have a brother who committed suicide. It would be worse if people start linking Mason's suicide and Katherine's death together."

"That's what the killer is hoping for."

"The killer wants us to believe Mason had something to do with the deaths of Katherine and Joseph." She drummed her fingers on the seat. "The suicide message. It was written by the killer, not Mason."

"The killer would be terrified if the mayor wants an investigation," Damon said.

She pondered that for a moment. "What's your plan next?"

"Do you think Tyler is willing to help us?" Damon asked.

"How?"

"I want to go back to Mason's house to have a look," he said. "I think Mason had found out something very important. The evidence might still be inside the house."


	17. Chapter 17

Richard Lockwood heard a noise behind him and he reached for the lamp on the table beside him at the same moment he saw the curtains stir beside the sliding glass doors. "Don't turn on the light!" the voice commanded as a shadow moved away from the curtains. "I can see you fine from right here."

"I don't need light to recognize your voice! The money is ready," Richard said, jerking his hand away and masking his surprise behind contempt. "Take the money and get the hell out of here. I want nothing to do with you anymore."

"You are scared, aren't you?"

"Where's the photo?"

"Where's the money?"

"You are like a vampire, you bleed people dry."

"Shut up and hand over the money."

The shadow at the curtains raised its hand and Richard saw the gun. "Don't be a fool! If you kill me now, they will figure out it was you in twenty-four hours."

"No! They won't. Mason is dead and now it is your turn." The laugh was chillingly shrill. "When they find the photos, I will make sure they do, they will think your wife kill you because of your affairs. I waited such a long time for this moment…"

The gun lifted, aimed, adjusted…

"Don't be crazy! If you kill me, they will try…"

The explosion from the barrel of the gun blew a small hole in Richard Lockwood's chest near his collar bone, but the fact that the hollow point shell had missed his heart didn't matter. On impact, it fragmented throughout his entire chest cavity, killing him instantly.


	18. Chapter 18

By eleven that night, Damon was having second thoughts about taking Elena with him on the expedition to search Mason Lockwood's house. He'd had such thoughts all day long, but there was no denying they seemed louder and considerably more forceful now that it was time to leave. He'd gone over the logistics of the thing a dozen times since this morning, and he still could not envision any serious risk.

It was highly unlikely that he and Elena would be seen entering or leaving Mason's house. The weather was bad tonight. There was a storm warning after midnight and it was already raining heavily by ten. It would provide a welcome cover from prying eyes.

Welcome cover? Prying Eyes? Searching a dead man's house?

What the hell was going on here? Damon wondered. His whole life had been turned upside down lately since he came to Mystic Falls. He didn't understand how it had happened, but he had a strong hunch that it was far too late to do a 180degree turn and reverse course.

There were no doubts that things were a little wacky at times in Mystic Falls, but for some reason he felt good here. He felt as if he had come to the right place. He knew he could find his answers here.

Damon came out from his deep thoughts as Elena spoke softly beside him.

"I just thought of something," she said. "Tyler told me the sheriff locked up Mason's house. How are we going to get inside?"

"I doubt if that will be much of a problem. Worst possible case is that we will have to jimmy a window."

Elena gave him an odd look. "You sound like you have done this kind of thing before."

"I haven't, but I'm a fast learner." In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Damon was starting to feel an exhilarating sense of excitement. _I'm having an adventure_. He smiled to himself.

"Damon? Is something wrong?"

"Probably. But I'm not going to worry about it right now." When this was over he was going to make love to Elena, he thought. The adrenaline flowed like wine through his veins.

"What will we do if we don't find anything useful in Mason's house?"

Her question sobered him instantly. "I'm not sure. After we have searched Mason's house, I will talk to the sheriff. I need to find out everything I can about Mason's death and the suicide note. Maybe we will get some clues from that."

"I still can't believe Mason was involved."

"I don't believe Mason was the one who killed Katherine and Joseph," Damon said.

"Something about this house gives me the creeps now," Elena whispered as she studied the house. "I don't think I will ever forget finding Mason's body in the living room."

"I'm not surprised. That kind of memory tends to stick with you."

Damon led the way around to the back porch. He tried the door. The knob did not turn.

"Is it locked?" Elena asked softly.

"Yeah." Damon moved along the porch to the nearest window. He pushed tentatively and felt it give. "Looks like the sheriff didn't bother to check the windows when she closed the place."

"Maybe she forgot."

"Either that or the lock is broken." Damon shoved the window open.

"Maybe." Elena watched anxiously as he slipped into the dark interior of the house.

"Okay, your turn." Damon reached out to help her.

Elena scrambled over the sill and peered around. "I can't see a thing."

"We will have to find our way by touch. I don't want to use the flashlight so much while we are inside this place. Someone might notice."

"I guess you have a point." Elena took a few tentative steps into the inky shadows.

Damon ran his fingers along the bottom of the window before he followed her. "I was right about the lock. It's broken."

"You think someone had broken it?"

"Yes."

"The killer?"

"Probably."

"I think we are in the living room now."

Damon switched on the flashlight. The stark glow of the flashlight bulb lit the room with a gloomy light.

"That's better." Elena paused briefly and studied the living room. "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know. Anything that doesn't look right," Damon said. He pulled open the first drawer of the bookshelves.

His spirits had been high when they began their venture, but thirty minutes and three drawers later, Damon was losing hope. He had found nothing unusual thus far.

"I didn't realise both Mason and Richard were big fans of motorcycles," Elena said as she opened a photo album. "I bet those antique motorcycles must have cost a fortune.

Damon froze. "What did you say?"

"I said those antique motorcycles must have cost a fortune." Elena frowned intently as she peered into another drawer.

"Damn!"

"What's wrong? What did you find?" Elena glanced over his shoulder.

"I didn't realise it." Damon took the photo album from her and opened it wide. He stared down at the photos inside. "Damn it to hell."

"I don't understand."

"Katherine got involved in more than one man." Damon glanced at her, his eyes hard. "Richard Lockwood is also one of them."

Elena stared at the photo on his hand. Both Richard and Mason were riding on the bikes when the photo was taken. "Uh-oh."

"Katherine had an affair with Richard."

Her eyes widened. "You think Richard is the one who killed Katherine and Joseph?"

"I don't know but Richard definitely doesn't want anyone to know about his affair with Katherine."

"What are we going to do?"

Damon took the photo album. "Come on. We are getting out of here." He shut the drawer and headed toward the back porch.

"Suits me." Elena slammed the e drawer closed and hurried after him.

Damon switched off the flashlight, plunging the house back into darkness. He urged Elena out into the heavily shadowed back porch.

She found the way to the open window by touch. When she reached it, Damon's hands closed around her waist. He hoisted her up and sat her on the sill. Elena swung her legs over the edge and landed on the back porch. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and adjusted her hood up over her head as Damon climbed out through the window. He tucked the photo album inside his jacket and reached for her hand.

"Let's go," he said.

Elena didn't need any encouragement. She hurried along beside him as they made their way down the steps and into the moonlit fog.

"I don't understand any of this," Elena said. "Why would Richard kill Katherine and Joseph?"

"Good question. One of many I intend to ask Richard."

She abruptly realized that he was furious. The anger in him was all the more dangerous because it was so tightly controlled.

"Uh, Damon, I think maybe we should talk about it before you do anything rash."

"Later."

"Sure. Later," Elena said agreeably as she slid inside the passenger seat of the blue Camaro. "When we get back to your place, I will make us a nice cup of tea and we can sit down and discuss this whole thing very carefully before you talk to Richard."

Damon did not bother to respond. Serenity risked a sidelong glance, trying to see his expression. It was impossible.

She was contemplating a variety of soothing remarks when from deep inside Elena's shoulder bag, her cell phone dinged. She fished it out. "I have got a text." When she accessed it, she murmured, "It's from Tyler." She touched the arrow on her screen and then covered her mouth in horror when she saw the message.

"Oh, my God!"

"What's this all about?" Damon said impatiently as he started the engine.

"Richard was shot. Tyler found him lying next to his mother in his studies. Mrs Lockwood was hysterical and she had a gun in her hand."


	19. Chapter 19

Elena awoke with a start to find herself alone in the bed. She raised herself on one elbow. A glance at the clock on the table told her it was three in the morning. She frowned.

She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. She slid her feet into her slippers and reached for her robe before she went down the short hall to the living room. The house was chilly. There was very little heat from the banked fires of the fireplace.

The soft glow of a lamp greeted her as she came to a halt in the arched entrance to the main room. Damon was seated on the sofa, dressed only in a pair of jeans. His hair was tousled from an obviously restless sleep. His feet were bare, in spite of the cold.

He sat leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Newspaper clippings of the deaths of Mason and Richard Lockwood were tossed on the coffee table in front of him. He was absorbed by newspaper clippings.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Damon said without taking his eyes off the newspaper clippings.

"It's all right. I wasn't sleeping very well, anyway." Elena padded softly into the room and sat down beside him on the sofa. She tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robe and leaned forward to study the newspaper clippings "What are you thinking about?"

"I got shot at the Charity Game Day. Then Mason was poisoned with cyanide. Now Richard Lockwood was shot in the chest."

"What are you trying to imply?"

"Dots."

"Dots?"

"Yes, I see dots and I need to connect them."

"So what have you come up so far?"

Damon thought about that. "It is a feeling I have got."

"A feeling."

"Yes."

"A feeling isn't a lot to go on," she said neutrally.

"I can't explain it but there are still some missing dots."

There was a brief silence before Elena spoke again.

"Damon, do you think John is behind all these?" she asked softly.

"I don't know." Damon turned his head to look at her. "He is still a suspect. I know you are upset because he is your father. But please understand why I can't give up when I'm this close."

"I understand." Elena sighed heavily. "It is scary to know John can be so cold-blooded."

"We still don't have any proof that John is behind all these." He put his hand on her arm. "I don't know John well enough to comment. But I have seen him angry. I imagine that when he's crossed, he could be capable of killing, and he certainly took desperate measures to warn me to stay away from you."

"I'm' scared, Damon," she whispered.

He reached for Elena and pulled her into his arms. "It's okay, darling. I will always be there for you when you need me." He felt back against the sofa cushions, taking her with him. "I will never leave you."

She sprawled across his bare chest and twisted her hands in his hair. Damon kissed her hungrily on the mouth. The kiss grew deeper, until she was shuddering in response.

Then his lips slid down to her throat. He yanked at the sash of her robe. When the garment fell open, he slid his hands inside, pushed the hem of her nightgown to her waist and cupped her buttocks. His fingers sank eagerly into her skin, squeezing gently.

Elena sucked in her breath. She felt his leg shift beneath her. He raised his knee. The rough fabric of his jeans slid along the inside of her thighs, burning her skin, opening her to his touch. The bulge of his confined erection throbbed against her belly.

"You drive me crazy, baby," Damon muttered. "I want you now. Before I lose my mind."

She smiled down at him.

He sat up abruptly, picked her up in his arms and rolled to his feet beside the sofa. Elena kissed his shoulder and threaded her fingers through the hair on his chest.

Damon rounded the arm of the sofa and took two strides toward the hall. He stopped, groaning. "Hell, I'm not going to make it as far as the bedroom."

He set Elena on her feet. She could barely stand. She braced herself against the back of the sofa, a hand on either side of herself, seeking support. Metal scraped on metal, the sound of a zipper being lowered.

She pushed hair out of her eyes and was instantly riveted by the sight of Damon's heavily aroused body. He already had the foil packet open. In a matter of seconds he was ready for her.

"I want to be inside you." His voice was a harsh whisper. His gaze was stark with sensual hunger.

He crowded close, moving between her legs. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her. Elena gasped and clutched the back of the sofa more tightly. He held her eyes in an unbreakable bond as he drove himself deeply into her.

Elena arched and cried out softly as he became a part of her. Her head fell back. He kissed her throat, tightened his grip on her hips and began to move within her. The urgency in him fuelled her own need. She felt the fantastic curling sensation grip her lower body. Instinctively she clenched herself around him. Her nails dug into the fabric of the sofa.

"Put your legs around me," Damon muttered against her throat. "Hold on tight. Yes. Just like that. Like that, oh, God,yes." He shifted one hand to the small throbbing bud between her legs.

She screamed softly as the small convulsions began.

Damon went rigid as his climax tore through him an instant later. Elena felt his body shudder again and again.

x x x

A long time later Damon stirred on the sofa. He could hear the ringing sound in the distance. No. The ringing sound was closer now. So very close.

He felt her wriggle on top of him. One sleek leg slipped between his thighs. "Damon?"

"Yeah?" He speared his fingers into her sexy hair.

She raised her head and looked down at him. "I think it is my phone."

"Oh." Reluctantly Damon eased the soft, inviting warmth of Elena aside. He tucked her snugly into her robe and sat up beside her.

"I have to take this call. It is from the hospital." Elena tightened her sash as she answered the phone. "Hello?"

Damon stood and went over to the fireplace. He tossed a piece of wood inside. Then he walked back to the sofa, sat down and looked at Elena.

"Are you sure?" Elena's tone altered abruptly. Alarm edged her voice. She leaned forward in the sofa, phone clamped to her ear. "Okay, okay, I have got it. Yes. Ten minutes. I promise."

She ended the connection and sat very still, phone clenched in one hand.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked.

"There is an emergency in the hospital. A patient of mine is not stable," she said urgently. "I have to go back."

He stood up. "I will drive you to the hospital."

Elena shook her head quickly. "No. You need to sleep." She reached out and touched his cheek gently. "You look tired."

"Alright. I will have a shower and make breakfast then."

She brushed a light kiss on his jaw. "Thanks."

Half an hour later Damon came out from his shower, dressed in a pair of denims and long-sleeve V-neck grey T-shirt. Just then a clap of thunder rattled the windows. He looked out and saw that it had begun to sprinkle.

Elena would get wet if she didn't have an umbrella, he thought.

 _Katherine would be afraid._

Katherine? Why was he thinking about Katherine now?

He didn't know. But something was eluding him. Something important and troubling. What was it? What was he missing? Why did it seem essential that he find it?

A bolt of lightning struck close by, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. And for that instant, he was Joseph again.

Katherine was talking to someone. No, they weren't talking. They were arguing.

 _"I'm not going to let you ruin your life, Katherine."_

 _"I love Joseph! I love him!"_

 _"Those men don't love you, silly girl. They want your body. They are using you."_

 _"No! Joseph loves me."_

 _"I'm the only one who cares about you in this world."_

 _"We are friends! Friends! Do you get it?"_

 _"We are soul mates. We are destined to be together."_

 _"You are sick! I love Joseph. I will never fall in love with a woman!"_

A woman!

Damon cringed as the memory jolted him.

He saw Isobel standing over Katherine, looking down. In her hand was the knife covered with blood. Katherine's blood.

Isobel killed Katherine.

He had to tell Elena. He had to talk to the sheriff.

Despite the downpour, he heard a low roar engine as it came speeding through the driveway. Elena was back. He had to talk to her.

He practically flew down the stairs, tripping on the last tread and barely catching herself on the newel post before he fell.

He reached the front door and flung it opened. "Elena! I remembered! I know who killed Katherine and Joseph…"

"You know."

It was Isobel standing in front of the door.


	20. Chapter 20

Elena suppressed a small groan when she saw John Gilbert pacing in front of her office at Mystic Falls Hospital. He glanced impatiently at the expensive black watch on his wrist. When he looked up, he spotted her striding towards the office. His relief and impatience were plain on his face.

"I need to talk to you, Elena," John said. "It is important."

"Okay, give me a minute," she said as she opened the door of her office. "Come in."

"You are still going to marry Damon Salvatore, aren't you?" His jaw was tight. "You will have to tell me what you see in him." He paused deliberately. "Besides the Salvatore family money, that is."

"You know, insulting me and the man I'm currently dating is probably not the best way to start this conversation."

John grimaced. "I know. I shouldn't interfere with your relationship but I'm your father. I worry about you."

"If you care about me you won't ask your brother to adopt me." She took a seat at her table. John sat down across from her. "So, don't pretend you really care about me, John."

John reddened. "Isobel and I couldn't look after you at that time. We had no choice."

"You always have a choice, John."

"You won't forgive us, will you?"

She took a breath and let it out slowly. "Are you asking for my forgiveness?"

He sighed. "I really want us to become a family. You are my daughter. You will always be my daughter."

"Did Isobel feel the same too?"

"What's that supposed to mean? She is your mother. Of course she would feel the same."

"Funny. I don't think she likes me at all."

"That's nonsense. You are her daughter. Our daughter."

She shrugged casually. "I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. I could see flicker of hatred in her eyes every now and then."

His eyes widened. "That's nonsense. Isobel does look cold and distant but she does love you."

"You think so?"

There was a brief silence.

"Isobel has always wanted to be a successful actress but she wasn't lucky in her stardom," John said sadly. "She was the shadow of Katherine when Katherine was still alive."

"I have heard they were pretty close."

"Yes, the girls were inseparable. Isobel believes that she and Katherine could go very far in their careers eventually," he said. "Katherine had a chance. I managed to pull some strings in Hollywood and I can bet she would become famous. Thanks to Joseph Salvatore. Katherine was a completely different person after meeting him."

"She was in love with Joseph."

"She was silly to fall in love with that bastard," he growled. "He killed her!"

"No, he didn't!"

John narrowed his eyes. "You believe what Damon Salvatore said about someone trying to frame Joseph for killing Katherine?"

"I believe Damon because it is the truth."

"He stabbed Katherine to death before he killed himself," John snorted in disgust. "Everyone in town knew what happened."

Elena stood up. "No. Katherine was being stabbed by someone when Joseph came home. Someone pulled the trigger and killed Joseph."

"Why did you sound so sure about this?" John asked curiously. "Damon could be lying."

She shook her head. "There was a third party inside the house. There was a motorbike near the Salvatore Boarding house that night."

"A motorbike?"

"We suspected both Mason and you…"

John rose from his seat abruptly, looking outrage. "What? You suspected me? I was in Hollywood when Katherine died that night!"

"You could have sneak back and kill her."

"I didn't!"

"Then Mason committed suicide."

John went still. "Are you trying to tell me that it was Mason Lockwood who killed Katherine?"

"No, it wasn't Mason."

John rubbed the back of his neck. "Jesus! What the hell is going on?"

"Richard died not long after that."

"What had Richard to do with this?"

"Richard had an affair with Katherine."

"Jesus!"

"But neither of them killed her." She met him eye to eye. "Tell me the truth, John. Did you kill her?"

"No, I didn't!" he retorted. "I wanted to but I didn't."

She caught her breath. "Why?"

"Katherine played games, Elena. She liked to. She had power over the men – sexual power. She used it on all the men she knew."

Elena grimaced. She knew the truth would be ugly.

"There wasn't much I could do about it," John added. "It hurt so much to see her flirting with different men."

"Joseph didn't kill her. He loved her too much," she whispered.

John did not move for a long time. Then he looked at her. "If it wasn't Joseph or Mason, who was it? Richard?"

"Good question," Elena answered. "We need to find out who owned the bike. Neither Joseph or Katherine rode a bike…"

"Who said Katherine didn't ride a bike?"

When Elena was sure her ears hadn't deceived her, she couldn't hold back her gasp. "What?"

"Katherine knew how to ride a bike. Your mother was a bike champion in high school…"

"My mother?"

"Isobel. She taught Katherine how to ride a bike."

"Shit." Elena headed for the door.

"What's going on?" John followed behind.

"I need to find Damon." She grabbed her phone from her bag and punched in the number. "Come on, answer the phone."

"Isobel is going to talk to Damon this morning…"

Elena stiffened. "What?"

"She is worried about you, honey. We think your relationship with Damon…"

Elena's face paled. "Oh, my God! Isobel is going to kill Damon."


	21. Chapter 21

"Hello, Isobel," Damon said.

Isobel moved into the house. Gone were modern beautiful dress and expensive jewelleries that she wore when she was at the annual dinner of the Founding Families. This morning she was dressed head-to-toe in hit-man black. And she had a gun in her hand, aiming at him.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I have been keeping an eye on you," Isobel smiled placidly. "When Elena left the house early this morning, I figured you would be alone."

"Why?"

"I came to rid my life of another nuisance." Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed. "How did you put it all together, Salvatore?"

"Seriously?" Damon smiled. "You think I'm going to tell you how I put it all together?"

"Son of a bitch. I knew you might be a problem, especially if you started asking questions."

"You were the one who shot us at the Charity Game."

"Everyone in town believed Joseph killed Katherine in a jealous rage and then he committed suicide. Nobody suspected anything for the last fifth-teen years until you showed up. I realized you weren't going to give up and go away."

"But why Elena? She is your daughter."

Isobel snorted. "I didn't plan to have a child in the first instant. I have never liked children."

"Why married John if you don't intend to have children?"

"John has his uses, but I have never loved him."

"You were in love with Katherine."

"Yes, I loved her. I loved her! How dare she fell in love with Joseph Salvatore? How dare she?!" She clenched her teeth, distorting her delicate features. "We shared our dreams and passion. We understood each other. But she actually wanted to marry Joseph Salvatore. I wasn't going to let her ruin her life."

"So, you looked for an opportunity to kill her."

"She wanted to go to Hollywood with Joseph. I couldn't let her go with him."

"You were jealous."

"Joseph didn't deserve her. She belonged to me!"

Her eyes were blinking rapidly now, and her breasts were rising and falling with each strenuous breath. Her voice had grown shrill.

"You killed her."

"Nobody could have Katherine if I couldn't have her."

"And you killed Joseph as well because of jealousy."

"He appeared at the wrong time. He

"Why did you kill Mason? He and Katherine went separate ways ages ago."

"You are a nuisance, Salvatore. Just like your uncle. I saw you talking to Mason at the supermarket that evening. So I followed Mason home to find out how much you had found out."

"Mason figured out you were at the party but you disappeared for a while before returning."

"Son of a bitch." Isobel whistled softly. "You really do know everything, don't you?"

"I had a little help."

"Obviously, I will have to deal with Elena," Isobel said. "Who else knows about this?"

"Richard had an affair with Katherine and you were afraid he might want to investigate on Mason's death. So you got rid of him too."

"I should have gotten rid of both of them years ago. They didn't deserve Katherine. They only wanted her body."

"Katherine played games. She used her beautify as power to manipulate men."

"You are wrong! Katherine used her beauty to protect herself." Isobel yelled at him. "She was perfect. She was an angel. My angel. Men only wanted her in bed. I was the only one person on this earth who really cared about her."

"How do you expect to explain my death?" Damon asked.

"Everyone in town thinks that you are odd and delusional. They will believe you are on some sort of drugs. Nobody will suspect anything."

"You are going to kill me and make it look like a suicide?"

"You are too smart, aren't you?"

"But I bet you never know how I figure out it was you who was at the Salvatore Boarding house that night."

Her jaw tightened. "How did you find out?"

Damon moved one hand in a slight motion. "I can see it in my dream."

"Bullshit."

"I'm a dream therapist. I'm a psychic," Damon said. "I can do an analysis of a dream, put patients in a trance and help them rework the dreamscape until I discover the unresolved issues involved."

Isobel smirked. "No wonder everyone in town thinks you are odd and delusional."

"I haven't told you about the dream I have been having since I was twelve."

"I'm not interested."

"I have been having dreams of Joseph and Katherine since I was twelve."

"You are crazy."

'I can do better than that. I can show you the dream."

Isobel snickered. "You are trying to buy time. You are hoping someone will come to the rescue. Don't waste your time."

"Don't you want to see how you killed Katherine and Joseph that night?"

"Shut up!" Isobel raised the barrel of the gun. "I'm not interested in your crap; we might as well end this now."

It was now or never.

Damon lunged forward and struck Isobel's wrist. She was stronger than she appeared. She managed to maintain her grip on the gun. Damon grabbed her wrist and hung on, trying to dodge the barrel of the gun aimed toward his body.

He flashed into the zone and focused on Isobel's dreamlight. He found the wavelengths and plunged her into a dreamscape. Then he followed her down into the nightmare that he had designed for her.

Horror and panic etched Isobel's face. The living room had changed. It was full of fog. "Where are we?" she gasped. "What's happening?"

"We are in a dreamscape," Damon said. "I created it just for you."

"That's not possible."

"Nothing is impossible."

"What's going on?" Isobel was sweating now. "I want to get out of here."

"Did you see Katherine and Joseph?"

"No!" she yelped. "I want to get out of here."

"There is no other way out of here. I'm leaving now. This dreamscape is yours."

"No! I swear I will kill you if you leave me here."

"Where's your gun, Isobel?"

Isobel looked at her hand and her gun was gone.

"How…what happened?" She looked horrified. "Where's my gun?"

"There is no gun. I created this dreamscape for you. There is no gun in this dreamscape."

"Get me out of here!"

"Don't you want to see Katherine and Joseph again?"

Isobel started to scream.

He ignored her and stepped through the fog – back into the reality and saw Elena and John dashed inside the house. The sheriff and a few officers in uniform followed behind.

"Damon!"

Elena went straight into his arms. He placed his hand on the back of her head, pressed her face against his chest, and kissed the crown of her head.

Isobel was hysterical now. She couldn't stop yelling and screaming. The sheriff and the officers swarmed her.

"Drop the gun!"

The order must have come from one of the cops. But Isobel continued to scream, and the sheriff used that momentary distraction to flip the gun away.

"What did you do to her?" Elena asked. She looked at Isobel.

"I put her into a dreamscape and I left her there," he whispered. "I'm not sure what did she see in her hallucinations but I assume it must be terrible."

Isobel continued to scream for what seemed like forever. Then she crumpled to the floor in an untidy heap.

"It is over now," Damon said.


	22. Chapter 22

"More curry, Alaric?" Damon asked.

Alaric looked at him. "No, thank you. I've had enough."

Elena turned to look at Jo. "What about you, Jo?"

"No, thanks."

"Well, then, I will get the dessert." Damon jumped to his feet and began to clear the table. "I hope everyone likes lemon pie."

"Fine with me," Alaric said.

"Tea, anyone?" Elena offered.

"No, thank you," Alaric said.

Jo reached out and touched Elena's arm. "How's Isobel?"

Elena leaned back against her chair. "She is still having hallucinations. Dr Fell isn't happy with her progress at this stage."

"What exactly happened with her that day?" Jo asked as she looked at Damon. "Why did Isobel go crazy?"

"The truth of the darkest secrets is always ugly," Damon said as he set the pie in front of Alaric and Jo. "But it is over now. I hope Isobel will recover soon."

Alaric looked thoughtful. "She will recover eventually. How's John?"

"He seems to be doing okay," Elena replied as she took a bite of the lemon pie. "It is hard to accept the fact that Isobel has never loved him but I think he can deal with it."

"Who would have guessed Isobel was in love with Katherine?" Jo said.

"She might have loved Katherine but in a wrong way," Damon said. "Love and hate – such a fine line."

"Why don't we go to the Grill and have a few drinks?" Alaric suggested.

"That's sound like a great idea," Jo said. "You hardly had any wine this evening, Elena. We can get your favourite cocktail at the Grill."

"I won't be drinking any alcohol for the next several months," Elena said serenely.

Jo raised her brows. "Why?"

Elena smiled. "I'm in training."

Alaric beetled his brows. "In training for what?"

"To have a baby."

Damon's chair toppled over with a crash as he got to his feet. "You are what?"

"Getting in training to have a baby," Elena said patiently. "It's time."

x x x

Time passed. It could have been minutes or hours. Damon had no way of knowing. But he knew he was in his dreamscape. This was the dreamscape he had been in since he was twelve. The only difference this time was it was filled with warmth and sunshine. It was no longer the ghastly fog that was the hallmark of violence and death that he had sensed.

He saw the figure of a man putting out his hand. And she was there. She smiled with love in her eyes. She put her hand in his, confidence and trust and love welling up within her. They had been given a second chance, and she knew that neither of them would throw it aside. They knew now that they belonged together.

They belonged together for they dreamed as one.

Damon came awake and knew at once that Elena was also awake. He sought her hand in the darkness.

"You had a dream again, hadn't you?" she asked softly.

"Yes. It was different this time, though. There was a finished quality to it."

"How different?"

"There was no violence or death," he said. "We were finally together again. I mean, they were finally together again."

"Joseph and Katherine were finally together again?" Elena turned toward him, nestling close. "Were they happy?"

Damon smiled. "They were happy. And so am I."

"You found out the truth finally, Damon."

"Yes."

"Katherine truly loved Joseph."

"Yes. They were bound together forever." Damon's hand tightened around hers. "Just like you and I are bound together."

"Nobody would believe us if we tried to explain about your dream."

"No."

"Do you think you will go on having dreams about Katherine and Joseph now that you have found out the truth about their deaths?"

"Everything is over. No more dreams." He gathered her against him, lost in her soft, luminous smile. "I promise I won't send you into a dreamscape."

"I don't mind being sent into a dreamscape with you," she said softly.

"You are right. You and I are going to be sharing our dreams for the rest of our lives." He curved his hand around the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his.

"I love you, Damon." Elena mumbled against his lips.

"I love you too, Elena." Damon moved his hand up along her leg to the top of her thigh. "Now tell me about this."

"What?"

"Your training schedule." He brushed his mouth lightly across hers and then he kissed the line of her jaw.

"Oh, that." Elena smiled in the shadows. "I want to do the best possible job on this baby. Our baby."

"I can understand your desire to do your best. Rest assured that you have obtained the best possible consulting assistance on this project."

"That's nice to know."

Damon framed her face between his palms and looked up at her with disturbingly serious eyes. "I should warn you that I haven't had much experience with babies and all the stuff that goes with them."

"Don't worry about it," Elena whispered. "Something tells me you will be very good at that kind of thing.

x x x

Elena stood on the park near the town hall with Damon beside her. It was a beautiful day. The park was crowded. It was crowded because the people were there to attend their wedding.

It was their wedding.

Elena took Damon's ring from the little pillow that Jo held out to her, then gently slid it onto his finger, his eyes never leaving hers.

He did the same, and she swore that she could feel the shock of this moment, this new reality, settle through her as the ring encircled her finger, just as Damon had encircled her life.

"You may kiss the bride," the judge said, and Damon wasted no time. He pulled Elena to him, leaned her back, and kissed her thoroughly, all to the applause and catcalls of their audience.

"Well, hello, wife," Damon said, grinning.

"Hello, husband," Elena replied, then wrap her arms around him and sighed.

"We will leave you two alone soon," Lillian promised as she and Giuseppe approached. "But we have a little reception set up in the Grill."

Elena glanced at Damon, who just shook his head. They had not intended a reception. Just a quick wedding squeezed in before her work life got crazy.

And, of course, a long weekend for a honeymoon.

"Just a little something for the happy couple," Giuseppe had said to Damon, obviously trying to hold back a smile. "I figured you don't want a fancy wedding ceremony, son. But I want everyone to know my son is happily married today."

Damon had laughed. And though Elena had feared he would turn down the gift as too extravagant, he had only said, "Hell, yeah. Thanks Dad."

Elena looked at her husband as they walked to the reception. He looked stunningly handsome in a suit. It was black and perfectly tailored, the gloss of the fine material gleaming in the light.

She was struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss him there. To lick him and taste him. Because he was truly hers now. Every delicious inch of him.

But she managed to control herself; after all, they now had all the time in the world.

The band was playing when they arrived at the restaurant, and there was a beautiful three-tiered wedding cake standing in the middle of the dance floor.

"It's beautiful," Elena whispered as she saw the wedding cake.

"I'm glad you like it," Lillian said. "It's gift from Stefan."

She took Damon's hand and squeezed it. He looked at her, then gently kissed her forehead. "It's nice, isn't it?" he said softly.

They danced, Damon and Elena, then Damon and Lillian, then Elena and Giuseppe. She even danced with Stefan once, while Damon spin Stefan's fiancée on the floor.

Megan was here, too, along with her parents. Megan was looking happy and healthy in a flowing yellow sundress. Damon took her onto the floor when the band starts playing "The Twist." It didn't last long; the little girl kept dissolving into giggles before shouting "Daddy! Mummy! I twisting!"

Of everyone in their lives, only John and Isobel were notably absent. Isobel was still locked in a mental institute because of her unstable condition. John did send his apology the day before but he had sent Elena a lovely diamond necklace as a wedding gift.

It didn't bother Elena at all. She wasn't thinking about Isobel or John today. Not when it was her wedding day and all around them were food and laughter and fun. Most of all, there was love. And when the festivities ended, she held Damon close as they said goodbye to their friends and families, then kissed Megan goodbye.

"I'm so happy tonight," Damon said as they strolled hand in hand towards the Salvatore Boarding House. "I'm glad you are my wife finally."

The sun had begun to set, and the sky was a brilliant glow of orange and purple.

"I'm happy you are my husband finally," Elena repeated after him.

They both laughed.

"Good," he added. "Really good."

"Maybe I can make it better for you." She pulled him to a stop beside her on the path. Then she took their joined hands and placed them gently on her lower abdomen.

Elena hesitated only a moment, then tilted her head back to look at him. "You are going to become a daddy soon."

The look of surprise and wonder and happiness that she saw in his eyes almost knocked her off her feet.

"You are pregnant?" he asked, but Elena didn't get to answer because her "yes" was swallowed up by her squeal when he scooped her into his arms and held her close to his chest. "I love you," he said simply, and she felt a quiet glow spread through her. The warmth of anticipation and wonder and excitement. Because for Damon and her—for their family—their life together was just beginning. And it would be spectacular.


	23. Epilogue

Elena watched the closed door. Soon it would open and he would come to her.

Little Joseph Ian Salvatore stirred. She glanced down and smiled. "Don't worry, your daddy will be here soon. He will take us home." Tiny Katherine Crystal Salvatore waved a tiny hand.

The twins had been born, safe and sound and without complications, in their parents' bed in Mystic Falls Hospital. Their father had caught them both in his arms.

Mother and babies had been pronounced fit and healthy by Elena's obstetrician. Elena and the twins had spent the night in the hospital. Now it was time to go home.

Elena crooned to the infants while she gazed in wonder at the hospital room. She had awakened this morning feeling well and alive.

"I love you two," she whispered Joseph and Katherine. "I promise you two I will take good care of both of you."

The door opened.

A man walked into the white, sunlit room.

He smiled at her.

"Damn," Elena said. "Wrong man."

"Hey, hey, hey, Elena. How is the new mother?" Liam Davis bounced cheerfully over to the bed.

He was grinning hugely. In his hand were a large bunch of flowers and a box wrapped in a beautiful gift paper.

She smiled. "Hi, Liam. What have you got there?"

"This?" Liam held up the box. "Just a little present for the kids. Two knit hats and two blankets. One for each."

"Why, thank you, Liam. That was very thoughtful of you."

"Think nothing of it. It is not an expensive gift." He chuckled as he looked down at the infants in her arms. "I got a promotion. You are looking at the new head of the Department of Paediatrics."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." Liam leaned forward get a better look at Katherine Crystal. "She is beautiful, just like her mum."

"Little Joseph looks exactly like his dad with his blue eyes," Elena said, smiling.

Liam hesitated. "I'm sorry, Elena."

She looked at him, confused.

He sighed. "I shouldn't have started a relationship with you when I was still married."

"It is okay." She smiled. "Everything turns out to be fine."

The door of the white, sunlit room opened.

Damon came into the room.

He smiled at her.

For an instant time stood still.

"Right man," Elena whispered. "We have been waiting for you."

"Hey, hey, hey." Liam stuck out his hand to Damon. "Congratulations, Mr Salvatore. Kids look just like you."

Damon glowered at Liam but allowed his hand to be shaken. "What are you doing here, Davis?"

"Just came to pay my respects to the new arrivals," Liam said.

"Fine. If you don't mind, I would like to take my family home."

"No problem." Liam sauntered toward the door. "See you all later."

"Not if I can help it." When he left, Damon smiled at Elena. "Ready?"

She cradled Joseph Ian and Katherine Crystal close. "We are all ready."

"The nurse said she would be along in a minute with a wheelchair." Damon touched his son's tiny hand. Quiet amazement warmed his eyes.

"I don't need a wheelchair."

"They won't let you walk out of here under your own steam." Damon grinned as he admired Katherine Crystal. "Incredible, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are. Where are your parents?"

"Waiting outside along with everyone else."

"Good grief, everyone's out there in the waiting room?"

"Just about."

"Oh dear!"

"Relax." Damon met her eyes. "Before we leave, I want to give you this." He held out a package he had brought with him.

"Oh, Damon. Thank you."

Damon picked up Joseph Ian and held him while Elena cradled Katherine Crystal in one arm and removed the brown paper from around the gift with her free hand. She found herself looking down at a volume bound in imitation leather.

"Photo album?" Elena looked up. "Are they yours?"

"Ours."

She slowly opened the album and her gaze went instantly to the faces of her twins when they were first born. She stared at the picture for a long, long time. Her twins. Damon's twins. Their twins.

"Katherine Crystal has your eyes. Take a look at the other one," Damon prompted after a minute. "This photo album will represent the journey of our twins."

"Little Joseph Ian has your hair."

Damon chuckled. "You didn't think it came out of nowhere, did you?"

"Bits and pieces of other people," Elena whispered. Her eyes misted over. "Damon you have given me a wonderful gift."

"It is nothing compared to what you have given me," Damon said. "I love you, Elena."

She looked up at him and saw the sure and certain knowledge in his eyes. "I always knew you would be good at that kind of thing."

"What thing?"

"A good father and a good husband."

"So are you." Damon smiled at her. "A good wife and a good mother."

The door opened at that moment. A smiling nurse entered the room with a wheelchair. She looked at Elena. "Ready to go home?"

"Yes," Elena said. "We are. We are more than ready."

 _THE END_


End file.
